O/ie  Chit  of  Jawing 


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COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 


OW  DIRECTOR 
NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS 

A*£* 

Income, .        .        .  / 

The  Dwelling ,        .        .        .        .        .        .        •  37 

House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat,       .        .  76 

Education,      .        .        .        .        .        .                .  108 

Occupation, ' .        .        .  140 

The  Use  of  Time,    .        .        .        .        .        .        .776 

The  Summer  Problem, 218 

The  Case  of  Man, 257 

The  Case  of  Woman, 289 

The  Conduct  of  Life, 321 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

The  remaining  daughter — a  home  body,       .        .        .        .        .2 

Gratitude  and  Shakespeare, 3 

"  A  spinster  sister," 6 

"  The  good  nature  of  a  friend," 7 

My  wife  was  perfectly  correct, 8 

There  is  a  beauty  of  living, 11 

Sheep  and  goats, 17 

Worrying  lest  they  may  not  be  able  to  put  by  for  a  rainy  day,    .    20 

"  Some  don't," 25 

Butlers  and  other  housekeeping  accessories, 30 

All  this  costs  money 33 

Mr.  Caesar's  father, 37 

"  Julius,  you  are  a  genius," 38 

"  I  sha'n't  be  a  bit  lonely  with  you,  George,"        .        .        .        .40 

In  his  shirt  sleeves, 42 

He  looked  tired — he  always  does, 48 

"  The  electric  car  at  the  fag  end  of  the  day,"         .        .        .        .52 


List  of  Illustrations 


Page 

I  call  it  Henley's  Folly, 56 

Throw  the  responsibility  on  their  wives, 62 

All  Irish, 68 

And  Swedes, 69 

Free  to  become  the  first  lady  in  the  land, 72 

Here  is  the  chance  of  your  lifetime,       ...        .        .        .77 

And  the  patterns  exercise  a  witchery  upon  us,      .        .        .        .79 

An  employer  can  rarely  resist  the  temptation  of  insisting  on  some 
one  touch,      .        .       .        .        . 82 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  stepped  into  a  veritable  bazaar,   .        .    86 

My  hostess  seemed  to  wallow  in  cushions, 87 

Julius  Caesar  himself  was  sunk  in  the  depths  of  one  of  the  chairs,    88 
Many  a  man  to-day  pays  his  quarter  of  a  dollar  ruefully,      .        .    92 

"  Informally  invited  guests," .99 

"  The  modern  dinner-table," 101 

School  boards  and  committees, ill 

People  with  axes  to  grind, .113 

The  private  school  boy, 114 

The  enemy  of  the  public  school, 117 

The  day  of  parting, 121 

Ambitious  students  without  means, .124 

Practical  instruction, 126 

Mr.  Perkins  and  his  four  daughters, 128 


List  of  Illustrations 

Page 

"  The  American  school-mistress,"  .        .        .        .       .        .  .  131 

"  Four  years  of  whirl  and  then  a  husband,"  .        •>        .        .  .132 

"  The  decayed  gentlewoman  of  the  day,"       .                .       ,  .133 

"  Equip  themselves  thoroughly  in  some  direction  or  other,"  .135 

"  The  intellectual  companion  of  men," 136 

"  The  secretive  conjugal  smile,"     .        .        «        ;        .  .  137 

"  The  dowdy  masculine-minded  being,"        .        .        .        .  .138 

The  selection  of  a  vocation,  . .  141 

The  prospects  here  for  a  genuine  contest  of  any  kind  are  not 
favorable .  .  .  .  142 

Cruising  uneventfully  in  the  Mediterranean  or  the  Gulf  of  Mex 
ico, 143 

The  whole  field  of  practical  charity,       .        .        .        .        .  .146 

The  general  utility  man,         .       £       •        ,        ...        .  .147 

With  the  benison  of  successful  capitalists  in  their  salutations,  .  1 52 

A  leisurely,  green  old  age,      .        .        .        ...        .        .  .  1 54 

Foreign  censors  have  ventured  not  infrequently  to  declare  that 
there  was  never  yet  a  race  so  hungry  for  money  as  we  free- 
born  Americans, .  .155 

"  What  have  we  to  do  with  abroad  ?"    .        .        .        .        .        .156 

Fourth  of  July  protestations  of  poverty  and  chastity,  .        .        .157 

His  bachelor  apartments, 160 

He  was  until  lately  a  promoter, 161 

"  A  pious  old  uncle  of  mine," .  162 


List  of  Illustrations 


Page 

The  schoolmaster, 166 

"  Looks  to  see  how  his  specimens  are  growing  under  the  glass 
case  in  the  corner,"      • 177 

"  And  just  at  the  time  that  the  wife  of  his  employer,  Patterson, 
may  be  setting  out  for  a  ball," 178 

"  Now  and  again  the  neighbors  drop  in  for  a  chat,"      .        .        .179 
"  I  arrived  home  breathless  for  the  children's  dinner,"  .        .        .  182 

I  am  not  sure  that  this  charge  could  not  be  brought  against  the 
Englishman,  Frenchman,  or  German  of  to-day,      .        .        .185 

The  citizen  who  went  to  bed  on  the  stroke  of  ten  every  night,     .  187 

When  she  could  demonstrate  successfully  her  ability  to  cook, 
sweep,    .    .    .    and  yet  entertain  delightfully,      .        .        .191 

Regards  wistfully  and  proudly  the  aesthetic  propensities  of  the 
female  members  of  his  family, 194 

Democracy  has  come  to  stay,        . 198 

The  man  who  has  no  time  to  know  his  own  family,     .        .        .  202 

Of  course  it  is  indispensable  to  read  the  morning,  and  perhaps 
the  evening,  newspaper, 203 

The  amateur  photographer, 207 

The  angler's  outing, 21 1 

American  men  have  the  reputation  of  being  considerate  husbands 
and  indulgent  fathers, 214 

Those  pleasant  excursions  from  city  to  country,  .        .        .        .215 

The  city  in  midsummer, 219 

The  single  man  can  pack  a  bag 221 


List  of  Illustrations 

Page 

Where  the  philosophical  soul  can  forget  the  thermometer,    .  .  223 

An  artistic  interior, .  .  227 

Meals  with  many  courses,     .       • 229 

The  son,  who  went  through  the  Keeley  cure,         .        .        .  .231 

That  newly  created  species,  the  American  girl,      .        .        .  .235 

Refusing  the  man  who  is  not  her  choice,      .        .    •    .        .  .  236 

Stranded  on  islands,       .       .    • .  238 

Joins  an  almost  tearful  support  to  the  summer  girl's  petition,  .  239 

Give  young  people  a  chance  to  enjoy  themselves,         .        .  242 

Haunt  the  office  and  make  eyes  at  the  hotel  clerk,         .        .  .  244 

Flits  off  from  the  house  with  her  best  young  man  of  the  moment,  245 

\ 
Considerable  uncertainty  in  her  mind  as  to  whom  she  is  engaged 

to,  .        -.       gp  .         .         .         .       • 247 

Close  their  text-books  with  a  bang  on  July  1st,   ....  249 
With  the  manner  of  one  haughtily  and  supremely  indifferent,       .  253 

Behooves  us  to  scratch  our  heads, 255 

Man,  the  tyrant  and  highwayman,  has  thrown  up  his  arms, .        .  256 

"  Have  something  to  eat  or  drink," 259 

"  A  nineteenth-century  Joan  of  Arc," 261 

The  so-called  man  of  the  world, 264 

Telling  the  host  that  we  had  been  bored  to  death,        .        .        .265 

Not  a  picturesque  figure, .        .  268 

Foreign  army  officers, 269 


List  of  Illustrations 


Page 

Ordinarily  he  is  sleepy  in  the  evening, 273 

Frequent  cups  of  tea, 274 

With  one  fell  swoop  of  her  broom, 275 

A  Welsh-rarebit  with  theatrical  celebrities, 281 

A  little  game  of  poker  within  his  means, 284 

Foreign  lions  of  their  own  sex, 288 

Dolly    Caesar's  great  -  grandmother   may  have  been   a  radiant 
beauty 292 

The  first  time  he  rode  a  bicycle, 294 

To  cast  her  ignorance  in  her  teeth, 295 

Complete  and  ideal  marital  happiness 300 

An  ever-watchful  guardian  angel  at  the  shoulder  of  man,     .        .  302 

Teacher, 304 

Nurse, 305 

Artist 306 

Clerk,        . 307 

In  the  heels  of  their  boots  hoping  to  be  married  some  day  or 
other, 311 

Those  who  sit  on  boards  are  more  apt  to  be  middle-aged,   .        .312 

The  ball-room, 317 

The  fancy-work  pattern, 318 

The  sensational  novel, 319 

This  is  the  greatest  nation  on  earth, 322 


List  of  Illustrations 


Page 

The  despondent  and  oppressed  of  other  countries,       .    .     .        .  323 
The  best  apotheosis  yet  presented  of  unadulterated  Americanism,  327 

Our  restaurants, 328 

Our  cigar  stores, .  329 

Our  old  furniture  haunts,    .        . 331 

Plentifully  larded  with  Adolph  Stein,  Simon  Levi,  Gustave  Cohen, 
or  something  ending  in  berger, 333 

Con  the  pages  of  the  late  Ward  McAllister's  book  on  etiquette,  .  334 

Many  things  which  our  fathers  put  from  them,  ....  337 

A  set  of  shallow  worldlings, 340 

Keenly  solicitous  to  know  "  what  is  going  on  in  society,"  .        .  341 

The  number  of  bottles  of  champagne  opened  at  the  marriage  of 
some  millionaire's  daughter, 342 

Satisfied  to  flirt,          . 344 

When  he  delivered  his  farewell  address, 346 

Thankful  that  he  is  neither  an  aristocrat  nor  a  gold-bug,     .        .350 


xiii 


INCOME 


ROGERS,  the  book-keeper  for  the  past  twenty- 
two  years  of  my  friend  Patterson,  the  banker, 
told  me  the  other  day  that  he  had  reared  a  family 
of  two  boys  and  three  girls  on  his  annual  salary 
of  two  thousand  two  hundred  dollars ;  that  he  had 
put  one  of  the  boys  through  college,  one  through 
the  School  of  Mines,  brought  up  one  of  the  girls 
to  be  a  librarian,  given  one  a  coming-out  party 
and  a  trousseau,  and  that  the  remaining  daughter, 
a  home  body,  was  likely  to  be  the  domestic  sun 
shine  of  his  own  and  his  wife's  old  age.  All  this 
on  two  thousand  two  hundred  dollars  a  year. 

Rogers  told  me  with  perfect  modesty,  with  just 
a  tremor  of  self-satisfaction  in  his  tone,  as  though, 
all  things  considered,  he  felt  that  he  had  managed 
creditably,  yet  not  in  the  least  suggesting  that  he 
regarded  his  performance  as  out  of  the  common 
run  of  happy  household  annals.  He  is  a  neat- 
looking,  respectable,  quiet,  conservative  little 
man,  rising  fifty,  who,  while  in  the  bank,  invaria 
bly  wears  a  nankeen  jacket  all  the  year  round,  a 
narrow  black  necktie  in  winter,  and  a  narrow  vel- 


The  Art  of  Living 


low  and  red  pongee  wash  tie  in  summer,  and 
whose  watch  is  no  less  invariably  right  to  a  sec 
ond.  As  I  often  drop  in  to  see  Patterson,  his 
employer,  I  depend  upon  it  to  keep  mine  straight, 
and  it  was  while  I  was  setting  my  chronometer 
the  other  day  that  he  made 
me  the  foregoing  confidence. 

Frankly,  I  felt  as  though  I 
had  been  struck  with  a  club. 
It  happened  to  be  the  first  of 
the  month.  Every  visit  of 
the  postman  had  brought  me 
a  fresh  batch  of  bills,  each  one 
of  which  was  a  little  larger 
than  I  had  expected.  I  was 
correspondingly  depressed  and 
remorseful,  and  had  been  ask 
ing  myself  from  time  to  time 
during  the  day  why  it  need 
cost  so  much  to  live.  Yet 
here  was  a  man  who  was  able 
to  give  his  daughter  a  coming- 
out  party  and  a  trousseau  on 
two  thousand  two  hundred 
dollars  a  year.  I  opened  my  mouth  twice  to  ask 
him  how  in  the  name  of  thrift  he  had  managed  to 
do  it,  but  somehow  the  discrepancy  between  his 
expenditures  and  mine  seemed  such  a  gulf  that  I 
was  tongue-tied.  "  I  suppose,"  he  added  mod- 


The  remaining  daughter — a 
home  body. 


Income 


estly,  "  that  I  have  been  very  fortunate  in  my  lit 
tle  family.  It  must  indeed  be  sharper  than  a  ser 
pent's  tooth  to  have  a  thankless  child."  Grati 
tude  too !  Gratitude  and  Shakespeare  on  two 
thousand  two  hundred  dollars  a 
year.  I  went  my  way  without  a 
word. 

There  are  various  ways  of  treat 
ing-  remorse.  Some  take  a  Turk 
ish  bath  or  a  pill.  Others,  while 
the  day  lasts,  trample  it  under 
foot,  and  shut  it  out  at  night  with 
the  bed-clothes.  Neither  course 
has  ever  seemed  to  me  exactly 
satisfactory  or  manly.  Conse 
quently  I  am  apt  to  entertain  my 
self-reproach  and  reason  with  it, 
and  when  one  begins  to  wonder 
why  it  costs  so  much  to  live,  he 
finds  himself  grappling  with  the 
entire  problem  of  civilization,  and 
presently  his  hydra  has  a  hundred 
heads.  The  first  of  the  month  is 
apt  to  be  a  sorry  day  for  my  wife 
as  well  as  for  me,  and  I  hastened  on  my  return 
home  to  tell  her,  with  just  a  shadow  of  reproach 
in  my  tone,  what  Mr.  Rogers  had  confided  to  me. 
Indeed  I  saw  fit  to  ask,  "  Why  can't  we  do  the 
same?" 


Gratitude  and  Shake 
speare. 


The  Art  of  Living 

"  We  could,"  said  Barbara. 

"  Then  why  don't  we  ?" 

"  Because  you  wouldn't." 

I  had  been  reflecting  in  the  brief  interval  be 
tween  my  wife's  first  and  second  replies  that,  in 
the  happy  event  of  our  imitating  Rogers's  ex 
ample  from  this  time  forth  and  forever  more,  I 
should  be  able  to  lay  up  over  five  thousand  dol 
lars  a  year,  and  that  five  thousand  dollars  a  year 
saved  for  ten  years  would  be  fifty  thousand  dol 
lars — a  very  neat  little  financial  nest  egg.  But 
Barbara's  second  reply  upset  my  calculation 
utterly,  and  threw  the  responsibility  of  failure  on 
me  into  the  bargain. 

"  Mr.  Rogers  is  the  salt  of  the  earth,  a  highly 
respectable  man  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the 
deacon  of  a  church,"  I  remarked  not  altogether 
relevantly.  "  Why  should  we  spend  four  times 
as  many  thousand  dollars  a  year  as  he  ?  " 

"  I  wonder,"  answered  my  wife,  "  if  you  really 
do  appreciate  how  your  friend  Mr.  Rogers  lives. 
I  am  quite  aware  that  you  are  talking  now  for 
effect — talking  through  your  hat  as  the  children 
say — because  it's  the  first  of  the  month  and  you're 
annoyed  that  the  bills  are  worse  than  ever,  and  I 
understand  that  you  don't  for  one  moment  seri 
ously  entertain  the  hope  that  our  establishment 
can  be  conducted  on  the  same  bash  as  his.  But 
I  should  just  like  to  explain  to  you  for  once  how 


Income 

people  who  have  only  twenty-two  hundred  dollars 
a  year  and  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  do  live,  if  only 
to  convince  you  that  the  sooner  we  stop  compar 
ing  ourselves  with  them  the  better.  I  say  '  we  ' 
because  in  my  moments  of  depression  over  the 
household  expenses  I  catch  myself  doing  the 
same  thing.  Our  butcher's  bill  for  this  month 
is  huge,  and  when  you  came  in  I  was  in  the  throes 
of  despair  over  a  letter  in  the  newspaper  from  a 
woman  who  contends  that  a  good  housekeeper  in 
modest  circumstances  can  provide  an  excellent 
dinner  for  her  family  of  six  persons,  including 
soup,  fish,  an  entree,  meat,  pudding,  dessert,  and 
coffee,  for  fifty-three  cents.  And  she  gives  the 
dinner,  which  at  first  sight  takes  one's  breath 
away.  But  after  you  prune  it  of  celery,  parsley, 
salted  peanuts,  raisins,  red  cabbage,  salad,  and 
cheese,  all  there  is  left  is  bean-soup,  cod  sounds, 
fried  liver,  hot  gingerbread,  and  apples." 

"  I  should  dine  clown  town,  if  you  set  such  re 
pasts  before  me,"  I  answered. 

"  Yes,"  said  Barbara.  "  And  there  is  a  very 
good  point  of  departure  for  illustrating  the  do 
mestic  economies  of  the  Rogers  family.  Mr. 
Rogers  does  dine  down  town.  Not  to  avoid  the 
fried  liver  and  cod  sounds,  for  probably  he  is 
partial  to  them,  but  because  it  is  cheaper.  When 
you  take  what  you  call  your  luncheon,  and  which 
is  apt  to  include  as  much  as  he  eats  in  the  entire 


The  Art  of  Living 


course  of  the  day,  Mr.  Rogers  dines ;  dines  at  a 
restaurant  where  he  can  get  a  modest  meal  for 
from  fifteen  to  twenty-five  cents.  Sometimes  it 
is  pea-soup  and  a  piece  of  squash-pie.  The  next 
day  perhaps  a  mutton-stew  and  a  slice  of  water 
melon,  or  boiled  beef  and  an  eclair.  Mrs.  Rogers 
and  the  children  have  a  pick-up  dinner  at  home, 
which  lasts  them  very  well  until  night,  when 
they  and  Rogers  sit  down  to  browned-hash  mut 
ton  and  a  head  of  lettuce,  or  honey-comb  tripe 
and  corn-cake,  and  apple-sauce  to  wind  up  with." 
"  That  isn't  so  very  bad." 

"  Why,  they  have  a  splendid  time.  They  can 
abuse  their  social  acquaintance  and  discuss  family 
secrets  without  fear  of  being  overheard  by  the 
servants  because  they  don't  keep  any  servants  to 
speak  of.  Probably  they  keep  one  girl.  Or  per 
haps  Mr.  Rogers  had  a  spinster  sister  who  helped 
with  the  work  for  her  board.  Or  it  may  be 
Mrs.  Rogers  kept  one  while  the 
children  were  little  ;  but  after  the 
daughters  were  old  enough  to  do 
it  themselves,  they  preferred  not 
to  keep  anybody.  They  live  ex 
tremely  happily,  but  the  chil 
dren  have  to  double  up,  for 
in  their  small  house  it  is  nec 
essary  to  sleep  two  in  a  room 
if  not  a  bed.  The  girls  make 

6 
'  A  Sninster  Sister." 


Income 

most  of  their  dresses,  and  the  boys  never  dream 
of  buying  anything  but  ready-made  clothing.  By 
living  in  the  suburbs  they  let  one  establishment 
serve  for  all  seasons,  unless  it  be  for  the  two 


'  The  good   nature  of  a  friend 


weeks  when  Rogers  gets  his  vacation.  Then,  if 
nobody  has  been  ill  during  the  year,  the  family 
purse  may  stand  the  drain  of  a  stay  at  the  hum 
blest  watering-place  in  their  vicinity,  or  a  visit  to 
the  farm-house  of  some  relative  in  the  country. 
An  engagement  with  the  dentist  is  a  serious 


The  Art  of  Living 


disaster,  and  the  plumber  is  kept  at  a  respecta 
ble  distance.  The  children  go  to  the  public 
schools,  and  the  only  club  or  organization  to 
which  Mr.  Rogers  belongs  is  a  benefit  association, 
which  pays  him  so  much  a 
week  if  he  is  ill,  and  would 
present  his  family  with  a  few 
hundred  dollars  if  he  were 
to  die.  The  son  who  went 
through  college  must  have 
got  a  scholarship  or  taken 
pupils.  The  girl  who  mar 
ried  undoubtedly  made  the 
greater  portion  of  her  trous 
seau  with  her  own  needle ; 
and  as  to  the  coming-out 
party,  some  of  the  effects  of 
splendor  and  all  the  delights 
of  social  intercourse  can  be 
produced  by  laying  a  white 
drugget  on  the  parlor  carpet, 
the  judicious  use  of  half  a 
dozen  lemons  and  a  mould 
of  ice-cream  with  angel-cake, 

and  by  imposing  on  the  good  nature  of  a  friend 
who  can  play  the  piano  for  dancing.  There,  my 
dear,  if  you  are  willing  to  live  like  that,  we 
should  be  able  to  get  along  on  from  twenty-two 
to  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  quite  nicely." 


My  wife  was  perfectly  correct. 


Income 

My  wife  was  perfectly  correct  in  her  declara 
tion  that  I  did  not  seriously  entertain  the  hope  of 
being  able  to  imitate  Mr.  Rogers,  worthy  citizen 
and  upright  man  as  I  believe  him  to  be.  I  cer 
tainly  was  in  some  measure  talking  through  my 
hat.  This  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  brought 
home  a  Rogers  to  confront  her.  She  is  used  to 
them  and  aware  that  they  are  chiefly  bogies.  I, 
as  she  knows,  and  indeed  both  of  us,  are  never  in 
quite  a  normal  condition  on  the  first  day  of  the 
month,  and  are  liable,  sometimes  the  one  of  us 
and  sometimes  the  other,  to  indulge  in  vagaries 
and  resolutions  which  by  the  tenth,  when  the  bills 
are  paid,  seem  almost  uncalled  for  or  impractica 
ble.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  if  a  man  earns 
only  twenty-two  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  is  an 
honest  man  withal,  he  has  to  live  on  it,  even 
though  he  dines  when  others  take  luncheon,  and 
is  forced  to  avoid  the  dentist  and  the  plumber. 
But  a  much  more  serious  problem  confronts  the 
man  who  earns  four  times  as  much  as  Rogers, 
more  serious  because  it  involves  an  alternative. 
Rogers  could  not  very  well  live  on  less  if  he 
tried,  without  feeling  the  stress  of  poverty.  He 
has  lived  at  hard  pan,  so  to  speak.  But  I  could. 
Could  if  I  would,  as  my  wife  has  demonstrated. 
I  am  perfectly  right,  as  she  would  agree,  in  being 
unwilling  to  try  the  experiment ;  and  yet  the  con 
sciousness  that  we  spend  a  very  large  sum  of 


The  Art  of  Living 


money  every  year,  as  compared  with  Rogers  and 
others  like  him,  remains  with  us  even  after  the 
bills  are  paid  and  we  have  exchanged  remorse  for 
contemplation. 

The  moralist,  who  properly  is  always  with  us, 
would  here  insinuate,  perhaps,  that  Rogers  is  hap 
pier  than  I.  But  I  take  issue  with  him  promptly 
and  deny  the  impeachment.  Rogers  may  be  hap 
pier  than  his  employer  Patterson,  because  Patter 
son,  though  the  possessor  of  a  steam-yacht,  has  a 
son  who  has  just  been  through  the  Keeley  cure 
and  a  daughter  who  is  living  apart  from  her  hus 
band.  But  there  are  no  such  flies  in  my  pot  of 
ointment.  I  deny  the  superior  happiness  of  Rog 
ers  in  entire  consciousness  of  the  moral  beauty 
of  his  home.  I  recognize  him  to  be  an  industrious, 
self-sacrificing,  kind-hearted,  sagacious  husband 
and  father,  and  I  admit  that  the  pen-picture  which 
the  moralist  could  draw  of  him  sitting  by  the 
evening  lamp  in  his  well-worn  dressing  gown, 
with  his  well-darned  feet  adorned  by  carpet-slip 
pers  of  filial  manufacture  supported  by  the  table 
or  a  chair,  would  be  justly  entitled  to  kindle  emo 
tions  of  respect  and  admiration.  But  why,  after 
all,  should  Rogers,  ensconced  in  the  family  sit 
ting-room  with  the  cat  on  the  hearth,  a  canary 
twittering  in  a  cage  and  scattering  seed  in  one 
corner,  a  sewing-machine  in  the  other,  and  sur 
rounded  by  all  the  comforts  of  home,  consisting 


Income 


prominently  of  a  peach-blow  vase,  a  Japanese  sun 
umbrella  and  engravings  of  George  Washington 
and  Horace  Greeley,  be  regarded  as  happier  than 


There  is  a  beauty  of  living. 


T  in  my  modern  drawing-room  in  evening  dress? 
What  is  there  moral  in  the  simplicity  of  his  frayed 
and  somewhat  ugly  establishment  except  the  spirit 
of  contentment  and  the  gentle  feelings  which 


The  Art  of  Living- 


sanctify  it?  Assuming  that  these  are  not  lacking 
in  my  home,  and  I  believe  they  are  not,  I  see  no 
reason  for  accepting  the  conclusion  of  the  moral 
ist.  There  is  a  beauty  of  living  which  the  man 
with  a  small  income  is  not  apt  to  compass  under 
present  social  conditions,  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
The  doctrine  so  widely  and  vehemently  promul 
gated  in  America  that  a  Spartan  inelegance  of 
life  is  the  duty  of  a  leading  citizen,  seems  to  be 
dying  from  inanition  ;  and  the  descendants  of 
favorite  sons  who  once  triumphed  by  preaching 
and  practising  it  are  now  outvying  those  whom 
they  were  taught  to  stigmatize  as  the  effete  civili 
zations  of  Europe,  in  their  devotion  to  creature 
comforts. 

It  seems  to  me  true  that  in  our  day  and  genera 
tion  the  desire  to  live  wisely  here  has  eclipsed 
the  desire  to  live  safely  hereafter.  Moreover, 
to  enjoy  the  earth  and  the  fulness  thereof,  if  it 
be  legitimately  within  one's  reach,  has  come  to 
be  recognized  all  the  world  over,  with  a  special 
point  of  view  for  each  nationality,  as  a  cardinal 
principle  of  living  wisely.  We  have  been  the 
last  to  recognize  it  here  for  the  reason  that  a 
contrary  theory  of  life  was  for  several  generations 
regarded  as  one  of  the  bulwarks  of  our  Constitu 
tion.  Never  was  the  sympathy  for  the  poor  man 
greater  than  it  is  at  present.  Never  was  there 


Income 

warmer  interest  in  his  condition.  The  social 
atmosphere  is  rife  with  theories  and  schemes  for 
-his  emancipation,  and  the  best  brains  of  civiliza 
tion  are  at  work  in  his  behalf.  But  no  one  wishes 
to  be  like  him.  Canting  churchmen  still  gain 
some  credence  by  the  assertion  that  indigence 
here  will  prove  a  saving  grace  in  the. world  to 
come  ;  but  the  American  people,  quick,  when  it 
recognizes  that  it  has  been  fooled,  to  discard  even 
a  once  sacred  conviction,  smiles  to-day  at  the  as 
sumption  that  the  owner  of  a  log  cabin  is  more 
inherently  virtuous  than  the  owner  of  a  steam- 
yacht.  Indeed  the  present  signal  vice  of  democ 
racy  seems  to  be  the  fury  to  grow  rich,  in  the 
mad  struggle  to  accomplish  which  character  and 
happiness  are  too  often  sacrificed.  But  it  may 
be  safely  said  that,  granting  an  equal  amount  of 
virtue  to  Rogers  and  to  me,  and  that  each  pays 
his  bills  promptly,  I  am  a  more  enviable  individ 
ual  in  the  public  eye. 

In  fact  the  pressing  problem  which  confronts 
the  civilized  world  to-day  is  the  choice  of  what 
to  have,  for  so  many  things  have  become  neces 
saries  of  existence  which  were  either  done  with 
out  or  undiscovered  in  the  days  of  our  grand 
mothers,  that  only  the  really  opulent  can  have 
everything.  We  sometimes  hear  it  said  that  this 
or  that  person  has  too  much  for  his  own  good. 
The  saying  is  familiar,  and  doubtless  it  is  true 


The  Art  of  Living 


that  luxury  unappreciated  and  abused  will  cause 
degeneration  ;  but  the  complaint  seems  to  me  to 
be  a  Sunday-school  consoler  for  those  who  have 
too  little  rather  than  a  sound  argument  against 
great  possessions.  Granting  that  this  or  that 
person  referred  to  had  the  moral  fibre  of  Rogers 
or  of  me,  and  were  altogether  an  unexception 
able  character,  how  could  he  have  too  much  for 
his  own  good  ?  Is  the  best  any  too  good  for  any 
one  of  us? 

The  sad  part  of  it  is,  however,  that  even  those 
of  us  who  have  four  times,  or  thereabouts,  the 
income  of  Rogers,  are  obliged  to  pick  and  choose 
and  cannot  have  everything.  Then  is  the  op 
portunity  for  wisdom  to  step  in  and  make  her 
abode  with  us,  if  she  only  will.  The  perplexity, 
the  distress,  and  too  often  the  downfall  of  those 
who  would  fain  live  wisely,  are  largely  the  direct 
results  of  foolish  or  unintelligent  selection  on 
their  part.  And  conversely,  is  not  the  secret  of 
happy  modern  living,  the  art  of  knowing  what  to 
have  when  one  cannot  have  everything  there  is  ? 

I  coupled  just  now,  in  allusion  to  Rogers  and 
myself,  virtue  and  punctuality  in  the  payment  of 
bills,  as  though  they  were  not  altogether  homo 
geneous.  I  did  so  designedly,  not  because  I  ques 
tion  that  prompt  payment  is  in  the  abstract  a 
leading  virtue,  nor  because  I  doubt  that  it  has 
been  absolutely  imperative  for  Rogers,  and  one 


Income 

of  the  secrets  of  his  happiness ;  but  because  I 
am  not  entirely  sure  whether,  after  ten  years  of 
prompt  payment  on  the  first  of  every  month  on 
my  part,  I  have  not  been  made  the  sorry  victim 
of  my  own  righteousness,  self-righteousness  1 
might  say,  for  I  have  plumed  myself  on  it  when 
comparing  myself  with  the  ungodly.  Although 
virtuous  action  looks  for  no  reward,  the  man  who 
pays  his  bills  as  soon  as  they  are  presented  has 
the  right  to  expect  that  he  will  not  be  obliged  to 
pay  anything  extra  for  his  honesty.  He  may  not 
hope  for  a  discount,  but  he  does  hope  and  believe 
— at  least  for  a  time — that  beefsteak  paid  for 
within  thirty  days  of  purchase  will  not  be  taxed 
with  the  delinquencies  of  those  who  pay  tardily 
or  not  at  all.  Slowly  but  sadly  I  and  my  wife 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  butchers, 
bakers,  and  candlestick-makers  of  this  great  Re 
public  who  provide  for  the  tolerably  well-to-do 
make  up  their  losses  by  assessing  virtue.  It  is 
a  melancholy  conclusion  for  one  who  has  been 
taught  to  believe  that  punctual  payment  is  the 
first  great  cardinal  principle  of  wise  living,  and 
it  leaves  one  in  rather  a  wobbly  state  of  mind, 
not  as  regards  the  rank  of  the  virtue  in  question, 
but  as  regards  the  desirability  of  strictly  living 
up  to  it  in  practice.  I  have  heard  stated  with 
authority  that  the  leading  butchers,  grocers, 
stable-keepers,  dry-goods  dealers,  dress-makers, 


The  Art  of  Living- 


florists,  and  plumbers  of  our  great  cities  divide 
the  customers  on  their  books  into  sheep  and 
goats,  so  to  speak ;  and  the  more  prompt  and 
willing  a  sheep,  the  deeper  do  they  plunge  the 
knife.  Let  one  establish  a  reputation  for  prompt 
payment  and  make  a  purchase  on  the  twenty-filth 
of  the  month,  he  will  receive  on  the  first  of  the 
following  a  bill,  on  the  twentieth,  if  this  be  not 
paid,  a  bill  for  "  account  rendered,"  on  the  first 
of  the  next  month  a  bill  for  "  account  rendered, 
please  remit,"  and  on  the  tenth  a  visit  from  a  col 
lector.  On  the  other  hand  I  have  known  people 
who  seem  to  live  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  and  to 
keep  the  tradesfolk  in  obsequious  awe  of  them  by 
force  of  letting  their  bills  run  indefinitely. 

Abroad,  as  many  of  us  know,  the  status  of  the 
matter  is  very  different.  There  interest  is  fig 
ured  in  advance,  and  those  who  pay  promptly 
get  a  handsome  discount  on  the  face  of  their  bills. 
While  this  custom  may  seem  to  encourage  debt, 
it  is  at  least  a  mutual  arrangement,  and  seems  to 
have  proved  satisfactory,  to  judge  from  the  fact 
that  the  fashionable  tailors  and  dress-makers  of 
London  and  Paris  are  apt  to  demur  or  shrug 
their  shoulders  at  immediate  payment,  and  to  be 
rather  embarrassingly  grateful  if  their  accounts 
are  settled  by  the  end  of  a  year.  No  one  would 
wish  to  change  the  national  inclination  of  upright 
people  on  this  side  of  the  water  to  pay  on  the 


Income 

spot,  but  the  master  and  mistress  of  an  establish 
ment  may  well  consider  whether  the  fashionable 
tradesmen  ought  to  oblige  them  to  bear  the  entire 
penalty  of  being  sheep  instead  of  goats.  With 
this  qualification,  which  is  set  forth  rather  as  a 
caveat  than  a  doctrine,  the  prompt  payment  of 
one's  bills  seems  to  be  strictly  co-ordinate  with 
virtue,  and  may  be  properly  described  as  the 
corner-stone  of  wise  modern  living. 

There  are  so  many  things  which  one  has  to  have 
nowadays  in  order  to  be  comfortable  that  it  seems 
almost  improvident  to  inquire  how  much  one 
ought  to  save  before  facing  the  question  of  what 
one  can  possibly  do  without.  Here  the  people 
who  are  said  to  have  too  much  for  their  own  good 
have  an  advantage  over  the  rest  of  us.  The  fut 
ure  of  their  children  is  secure.  If  they  dread 
death  it  is  not  because  they  fear  to  leave  their 
wives  and  children  unprovided  for.  Many  of 
them  go  on  saving,  just  the  same,  and  talk  poor 
if  a  railroad  lowers  a  dividend,  or  there  is  not  a 
ready  market  for  their  real  estate  at  an  exalted 
profit.  Are  there  more  irritating  men  or  women 
in  the  world  than  the  over-conservative  persons 
of  large  means  who  are  perpetually  harping  on 
saving,  and  worrying  lest  they  may  not  be  able  to 
put  by  for  a  rainy  day,  as  they  call  it,  twenty-five 
per  cent,  or  more  of  their  annual  income?  The 
capitalist,  careworn  by  solicitude  of  this  sort,  is 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  one    fool   in  creation   who  is  not  entitled  to 
some  morsel  of  pity. 

How  much  ought  the  rest  of  us  to  save?  I 
know  a  man — now  you  do  not  know  him,  and 
there  is  no  use  in  racking-  your  brains  to  discover 


Worrying  lest  they  may  not  be  able  to  put  by  for  a  rainy  day. 

who  he  is,  which  seems  to  be  a  principal  motive 
for  reading  books  nowadays,  as  though  we  writers 
had  a  cabinet  photograph  in  our  mind's  eye  when 
ever  we  took  a  pen  in  hand.  I  know  a  man  who 
divides  his  income  into  parts.  "  All  Gaul  is  di 
vided  into  three  parts,"  you  will  remember  we 


Income 

read  in  the  classics.  Well,  my  friend,  whom  we 
will  call  Julius  Caesar  for  convenience  and  mysti 
fication,  divides  his  income,  on  the  first  of  January, 
into  a  certain  number  of  parts  or  portions.  He 
and  his  wife  have  a  very  absorbing  and  earnest 
pow-wow  over  it  annually.  They  take  the  matter 
very  seriously,  and  burn  the  midnight  oil  in  the 
sober  endeavor  to  map  and  figure  out  in  advance 
a  wise  and  unselfish  exhibit.  So  much  and  no 
more  for  rent,  so  much  for  servants,  so  much  for 
household  supplies,  so  much  for  clothes,  so  much 
for  amusements,  so  much  for  charity,  so  much  to 
meet  unlooked-for  contingencies,  and  so  much  for 
investment.  By  the  time  the  exhibit  is  finished  it 
is  mathematically  and  ethically  irreproachable, 
and,  what  is  more,  Julius  Caesar  and  his  wife  live 
up  to  it  so  faithfully  that  they  are  sure  to  have 
some  eight  or  ten  dollars  to  the  good  on  the 
morning  of  December  thirty-first,  which  they 
commonly  expend  in  a  pair  of  canvas-back  ducks 
and  a  bottle  of  champagne,  for  which  they  pay 
cash,  in  reward  for  their  own  virtue  and  to  enable 
them  at  the  stroke  of  midnight  to  submit  to  their 
own  consciences  a  trial  balance  accurate  to  a 
cent. 

Now  it  should  be  stated  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ju 
lius  Caesar  are  not  very  busy  people  in  other 
respects,  and  that  their  annual  income,  which  is 
fifteen  thousand  dollars,  and  chiefly  rent  from  im- 


The  Art  of  Living 

proved  real  estate  in  the  hands  of  a  trustee,  flows 
on  as  regularly  and  surely  as  a  river.  Where 
fore  it  might  perhaps  be  argued,  if  one  were  dis 
posed  to  be  sardonic,  that  this  arithmetical  sys 
tem  of  life  under  the  circumstances  savors  of  a 
fad,  and  that  Julius  and  his  wife  take  themselves 
and  their  occupation  a  trifle  too  seriously,  espe 
cially  as  they  have  both  been  known  to  inform, 
solemnly  and  augustly,  more  than  one  acquaint 
ance  who  was  struggling  for  a  living,  that  it  is 
every  one's  duty  to  lay  up  at  least  one-tenth  of 
his  income  and  give  at  least  another  tenth  in 
charity.  And  yet,  when  one  has  ceased  to  smile 
at  the  antics  of  this  pair,  the  consciousness  re 
mains  that  they  are  right  in  their  practice  of  fore 
sight  and  arithmetical  apportioning,  and  that  one 
who  would  live  wisely  should,  if  possible,  decide 
in  advance  how  much  he  intends  to  give  to  the 
poor  or  put  into  the  bank.  Otherwise  he  is  mor 
ally,  or  rather  immorally,  certain  to  spend  every 
thing,  and  to  suffer  disagreeable  qualms  instead 
of  enjoying  canvas-back  ducks  and  a  bottle  of 
champagne  on  December  thirty-first. 

As  to  what  that  much  or  little  to  be  given  and 
to  be  saved  shall  be,  there  is  more  room  for  dis 
cussion.  Julius  Caesar  and  his  wife  have  declared 
in  favor  of  a  tenth  for  each,  which  in  their  case 
means  fifteen  hundred  dollars  given,  and  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  saved,  which  leaves  them  a  net 


Income 

income  of  twelve  thousand  dollars  to  spend,  and 
they  have  no  children.  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  if  every  man  with  ten  thousand  dollars  a 
year  and  a  family  were  to  give  away  three  hun 
dred  dollars,  and  prudently  invest  seven  hundred 
dollars,  charity  would  not  suffer  so  long  as  at  pres 
ent,  and  would  be  no  less  kind.  Unquestionably 
those  of  us  who  come  out  on  December  thirty- 
first  just  even,  or  eight  or  nine  dollars  behind  in 
stead  of  ahead,  and  would  have  been  able  to  spend 
a  thousand  or  two  more,  are  the  ones  who  find 
charity  and  saving  so  difficult.  Our  friends  who 
are  said  to  have  too  much  for  their  own  good  help 
to  found  a  hospital  or  send  a  deserving  youth 
through  college  without  winking.  It  costs  them 
merely  the  trouble  of  signing  a  check.  But  it  be 
hooves  those  who  have  only  four  instead  of  forty 
times  as  much  as  Rogers,  if  they  wish  to  do  their 
share  in  relieving  the  needs  of  others,  to  do  so 
promptly  and  systematically  before  the  fine  edge 
of  the  good  resolutions  formed  on  the  first  of  Jan 
uary  is  dulled  by  the  pressure  of  a  steadily  de 
pleted  bank  account,  and  a  steadily  increasing  ar 
ray  of  bills.  Charity,  indeed,  is  more  difficult  for 
us  to  practise  than  saving,  for  the  simplest  method 
of  saving,  life  insurance,  is  enforced  by  the  "  stand 
and  deliver "  argument  of  an  annual  premium. 
Only  he,  who  before  the  first  crocus  thrusts  its 
gentle  head  above  the  winter's  snow  has  sent  his 

23 


The  Art  of  Living 


check  to  the  needy,  and  who  can  conscientiously 
hang  upon  his  office  door  "  Fully  insured  ;  life  in 
surance  agents  need  not  apply,"  is  in  a  position  to 
face  with  a  calm  mind  the  fall  of  the  leaf  and  the 
December  days  when  conscience,  quickened  by 
the  dying  year,  inquires  what  we  have  done  for 
our  neighbor,  and  how  the  wife  and  the  little 
ones  would  fare  if  we  should  be  cut  down  in  the 
strength  of  our  manhood. 

And  yet,  too,  important  as  saving  is,  there  are 
so  many  things  which  we  must  have  for  the  sake 
of  this  same  wife  and  the  little  ones  that  we  cannot 
afford  to  save  too  much.  Are  we  to  toil  and  moil 
all  our  days,  go  without  fresh  butter  and  never 
take  six  weeks  in  Europe  or  Japan  because  we 
wish  to  make  sure  that  our  sons  and  daughters 
will  be  amply  provided  for,  as  the  obituary  no 
tices  put  it  ?  Some  men  with  daughters  only  have 
a  craze  of  saving  so  that  this  one  earthly  life  be 
comes  a  rasping,  worrying  ordeal,  which  is  only 
too  apt  to  find  an  end  in  the  coolness  of  a  pre 
mature  grave.  My  friend  Perkins — here  is  anoth 
er  chance,  identity  seekers,  to  wonder  who  Perkins 
really  is — the  father  of  four  girls,  is  a  thin,  ner 
vous  lawyer,  who  ought  to  take  a  proper  vacation 
every  summer ;  but  he  rarely  does,  and  the  reason 
seems  to  be  that  he  is  saddled  by  the  idea  that  to 
bring  a  girl  up  in  luxury  and  leave  her  with  any 
thing  less  than  five  thousand  dollars  a  year  is  a 


Income 


piece  of  paternal  brutality.  It  seems  to  me  that  a 
father  ought  in  the  first  place  to  remember  that 
some  girls  marry.  I  reminded  Perkins  of  this  one 
day.  "  Some  don't,"  he  answered  mournfully. 
"  Marriage  does  not  run  in  the  female  Perkins  line. 
The  chances  are  that  two  of  my  four  will  never 
marry.  They  might  be  able  to  get  along,  if  they 
lived  together  and  were  careful, 
on  seven  thousand  dollars  a  year, 
and  I  must  leave  them  that  some 
how."  "  Hoot  toot,"  said  I,  "  that 
seems  to  me  nonsense. 
Don't  let  the  spectre  of 
decayed  gentlewomen 
hound  you  into  dyspep 
sia  or  Bright's  disease,  but 
give  yourself  a  chance  and 
trust  to  your  girls  to  look 
out  for  themselves.  There 
so  many  things  for 


are 


1  Some  don't.' 


women  to  do  now  besides 

marry  or  pot  jam,  that  a  fond  father  ought  to  let 

his  nervous  system  recuperate  now  and  then." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  that  they  might  become 
teachers  or  physicians  or  hospital  nurses  or  type 
writers,"  said  Perkins.  "  Declined  with  thanks." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  I  inquired  with  a  little  irri 
tation,  "  that  they  would  be  happier  so  than  in  do 
ing  nothing  on  a  fixed  income,  in  simply  being 


The  Art  of  Living 

mildly  cultivated  and  philanthropic  on  dividends, 
in  moving  to  the  sea-side  in  summer  and  back 
again  in  the  autumn,  and  in  dying  at  the  last  of 
some  fashionable  ailment  ?  " 

"  No  I  don't,"  said  Perkins.  "  Do  you  ?  " 
Were  I  to  repeat  my  answer  to  this  inquiry  1 
should  be  inviting  a  discussion  on  woman,  which 
is  not  in  place  at  this  stage  of  our  reflections. 
Let  me  say,  though,  that  I  am  still  of  the  opinion 
that  Perkins  ought  to  give  his  nervous  system 
a  chance  and  not  worry  so  much  about  his 
daughters. 

II 

SEEING  that  there  are  so  many  things  to  have 
and  that  we  cannot  have  everything,  what  are  we 
to  choose  ?  I  have  sometimes,  while  trudging 
along  in  the  sleighing  season,  noticed  that  many 
men,  whose  income  I  believe  to  be  much  smaller 
than  mine,  were  able  to  ride  behind  fast  trotters 
in  fur  overcoats.  The  reason  upon  reflection  was 
obvious  to  me.  Men  of  a  certain  class  regard  a 
diamond  pin,  a  fur  overcoat,  and  a  fast  horse  as 
the  first  necessaries  of  existence  after  a  bed,  a 
hair-brush  and  one  maid-of-all-work.  In  other 
words,  they  are  willing  to  live  in  an  inexpensive 
locality,  with  no  regard  to  plumbing,  society,  or 
art,  to  have  their  food  dropped  upon  the  table, 
and  to  let  their  wives  and  daughters  live  with 

26 


Income 

shopping  as  the  one  bright  spot  in  the  month's 
horizon,  if  only  they,  the  husbands  and  fathers, 
can  satisfy  the  three-headed  ruling  ambition  in 
question.  The  men  to  whom  I  am  referring  have 
not  the  moral  or  aesthetic  tone  of  Rogers  and  my 
self,  and  belong  to  quite  a  distinct  class  of  society 
from  either  of  us.  But  among  the  friends  of  both 
of  us  there  are  people  who  act  on  precisely  the 
same  principle.  A  fine  sense  of  selection  ought 
to  govern  the  expenditure  of  income,  and  the  wise 
man  will  refrain  from  buying  a  steam-yacht  for 
himself  or  a  diamond  crescent  for  his  wife  before 
he  has  secured  a  home  with  modern  conveniences, 
an  efficient  staff  of  servants,  a  carefully  chosen 
family  physician,  a  summer  home,  or  an  ample 
margin  wherewith  to  hire  one,  the  best  educa 
tional  advantages  for  his  children  which  the  com 
munity  will  afford,  and  choice  social  surround 
ings.  In  order  to  have  these  comfortably  and  com 
pletely,  and  still  not  to  be  within  sailing  distance, 
so  to  speak,  of  a  steam-yacht,  one  needs  to  have 
nowadays  —  certainly  in  large  cities  —  an  income 
of  from  seven  thousand  to  eleven  thousand  dol 
lars,  according  to  where  one  lives. 

I  make  this  assertion  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that 
our  legislators  all  over  the  country  annually 
decree  that  from  four  to  five  thousand  dollars  a 
year  is  a  fat  salary  in  reward  for  public  service, 
and  that  an  official  with  a  family  who  is  given 


The  Art  of  Living 

twenty-five  hundred  or  three  thousand  is  to  be 
envied.  Envied  by  whom,  pray  ?  By  the  plough 
man,  the  horse-car  conductor,  and  the  corner 
grocery  man,  may  be,  but  not  by  the  average 
business  or  professional  man  who  is  doing  well. 
To  be  sure,  five  thousand  dollars  in  a  country 
town  is  affluence,  if  the  beneficiary  is  content  to 
stay  there ;  but  in  a  city  the  family  man  with 
only  that  income,  provided  he  is  ambitious,  can 
only  just  live,  and  might  fairly  be  described  as  the 
cousin  german  to  a  mendicant.  And  yet  there 
are  some  worthy  citizens  still,  who  doubtless 
would  be  aghast  at  these  statements,  and  would 
wish  to  know  how  one  is  to  spend  five  thousand 
dollars  a  year  without  extravagance.  We  cer 
tainly  did  start  in  this  country  on  a  very  different 
basis,  and  the  doctrine  of  plain  living  was  written 
between  the  lines  of  the  Constitution.  We  were 
practically  to  do  our  own  work,  to  be  content 
with  pie  and  doughnuts  as  the  staple  articles  of 
nutrition,  to  abide  in  one  locality  all  the  year 
round,  and  to  eschew  color,  ornament,  and  refined 
recreation.  All  this  as  an  improvement  over  the 
civilization  of  Europe  and  a  rebuke  to  it.  What 
ever  the  ethical  value  of  this  theory  of  existence 
in  moulding  the  national  character  may  have  been, 
it  has  lost  its  hold  to-day,  and  we  as  a  nation  have 
fallen  into  line  with  the  once  sneered-at  older  civ 
ilizations,  though  we  honestly  believe  that  we  are 


Income 

giving  and  going  to  give  a  peculiar  redeeming 
brand  to  the  adopted,  venerable  customs  which 
will  purge  them  of  dross  and  bale. 

Take  the  servant  question,  for  instance.  We 
are  perpetually  discussing  how  we  are  to  do  away 
with  the  social  reproach  which  keeps  native 
American  women  out  of  domestic  service ;  yet 
at  the  same  time  in  actual  practice  the  demand 
for  servants  grows  more  and  more  urgent  and 
wide-spread,  and  they  are  consigned  still  more 
hopelessly,  though  kindly,  to  the  kitchen  and 
servants'  hall  in  imitation  of  English  upper-class 
life.  In  the  days  when  our  Emerson  sought 
to  practise  the  social  equality  for  which  he 
yearned,  by  requiring  his  maids  to  sit  at  his 
own  dinner-table,  a  domestic  establishment  was  a 
modest  affair  of  a  cook  and  a  second  girl.  Now, 
the  people  who  are  said  to  have  too  much  for 
their  own  good,  keep  butlers,  ladies'  maids,  gov 
ernesses,  who  like  Mahomet's  coffin  hover  be 
tween  the  parlor  and  the  kitchen,  superfine  laun 
dresses,  pages  in  buttons,  and  other  housekeeping 
accessories,  and  domestic  life  grows  bravely  more 
and  more  complex.  To  be  sure,  too,  I  am  quite 
aware  that,  as  society  is  at  present  constituted, 
only  a  comparatively  small  number  out  of  our 
millions  of  free-born  American  citizens  have  or 
are  able  to  earn  the  seven  to  eleven  thousand  dol 
lars  a  year  requisite  for  thorough  comfort,  and 


The  Art  of  Living 

that   the    most   interesting   and   serious   problem 
which  confronts  human  society  to-day  is  the  an- 


Butlers  and  other  housekeeping  accessories. 

nihilation  or  lessening  of  the  terrible  existing  in 
equalities  in  estate  and  welfare. 

This  problem,  absorbing  as  it  is,  can  scarcely 
be  solved  in  our  time.  But,  whatever  the  solu 
tion,  whether  by  socialism,  government  control, 


Income 

or  brotherly  love,  is  it  not  safe  to  assume  that 
when  every  one  shares  alike,  society  is  not  going 
to  be  satisfied  with  humble,  paltry,  or  ugly  con 
ditions  as  the  universal  weal?  If  the  new  dis 
pensation  does  not  provide  a  style  and  manner  of 
living  at  least  equal  in  comfort,  luxury,  and  refine 
ment  to  that  which  exists  among  the  well-to-do 
to-day,  it  will  be  a  failure.  Humanity  will  never 
consent  to  be  shut  off  from  the  best  in  order  to 
be  exempt  from  the  worst.  The  millennium  must 
supply  not  merely  bread  and  butter,  a  house,  a 
pig,  a  cow,  and  a  sewing-machine  for  every  one, 
but  attractive  homes,  gardens,  and  galleries,  lit 
erature  and  music,  and  all  the  range  of  aesthetic 
social  adjuncts  which  tend  to  promote  healthy 
bodies,  delightful  manners,  fine  sensibilities,  and 
noble  purposes,  or  it  will  be  no  millennium. 

Therefore  one  who  would  live  wisely  and  has 
the  present  means,  though  he  may  deplore  exist 
ing  misery  and  seek  to  relieve  it,  does  not  give 
away  to  others  all  his  substance  but  spends  it 
chiefly  on  himself  and  his  family  until  he  has  sat 
isfied  certain  needs.  By  way  of  a  house  he  feels 
that  he  requires  not  merely  a  frail,  unornamental 
shelter,  but  a  carefully  constructed,  well  venti 
lated,  cosily  and  artistically  furnished  dwelling, 
where  his  family  wilt  neither  be  scrimped  for 
space  nor  exposed  to  discomforts,  and  where  he 
can  entertain  his  friends  tastefully  if  not  with  ele- 


The  Art  of  Living 


gance.  All  this  costs  money  and  involves  large 
and  recurrent  outlays  for  heating,  lighting,  up 
holstery,  sanitary  appliances,  silver,  china,  and 
glass.  It  is  not  sufficient  for  him  that  his  chil 
dren  should  be  sure  of  their  own  father ;  he  is 
solicitous,  besides,  that  they  should  grow  up  as 
free  as  possible  from  physical  blemishes,  and 
mentally  and  spiritually  sound  and  attractive. 
To  promote  this  he  must  needs  consult  or  engage 
from  time  to  time  skilled  specialists,  dentists,  ocu 
lists,  dancing  and  drawing  masters,  private  tutors, 
and  music-teachers.  To  enable  these  same  sons 
and  daughters  to  make  the  most  of  themselves, 
he  must,  during  their  early  manhood  and  woman 
hood,  enable  them  to  pursue  professional  or  other 
studies,  to  travel,  and  to  mingle  in  cultivated  and 
well  -  bred  society.  He  must  live  in  a  choice 
neighborhood  that  he  may  surround  himself  and 
his  family  with  refining  influences,  and  accord 
ingly  he  must  pay  from  twelve  hundred  to 
twenty-five  hundred  or  three  thousand  dollars  a 
year  for  rent,  according  to  the  size  and  desirabil 
ity  of  the  premises.  Unless  he  would  have  his 
wife  and  daughters  merely  household  factors  and 
drudges,  he  must  keep  from  three  to  five  or  six 
servants,  whose  wages  vary  from  four  to  six  or 
seven  dollars  a  week,  and  feed  them. 

Nor  can  the  athletic,  aesthetic,  or  merely  pleas 
urable  needs  of  a  growing  or  adolescent  household 


Income 

be  ignored.  He  must  meet  the  steady  and  relent 
less  drain  from  each  of  these  sources,  or  be  con 
scious  that  his  flesh  and  blood  have  not  the  same 
advantages  and  opportunities  which  are  enjoyed 
by  their  contemporaries.  He  must  own  a  pew,  a 
library  share,  a  fancy  dress  costume,  and  a  ceme 
tery  lot,  and  he  must  always  have  loose  change 
on  hand  for  the  hotel  waiter  and  the  colored  rail 
way  porter.  The  family  man  in  a  large  city  who 
meets  these  several  demands  to  his  entire  satis 
faction  will  have  little  of  ten  thousand  dollars  left 
for  the  purchase  of  a  trotter,  a  fur  overcoat,  and  a 
diamond  pin. 

The  growing  consciousness  of  the  value  o( 
these  complex  demands  of  our  modern  civiliza 
tion,  when  intelligently  gratified,  acts  at  the  pres 
ent  day  as  a  cogent  incentive  to  make  money,  not 
for  the  mere  sake  of  accumulation,  but  to  spend. 
Gross  accumulation  with  scant  expenditure  has 
always  been  sanctioned  here ;  but  to  grow  rich 
and  yet  be  lavish  has  only  within  a  compara 
tively  recent  period  among  us  seemed  reconcila 
ble  with  religious  or  national  principles.  Even 
yet  .he  who  many  times  a  millionaire  still  walks 
unkempt,  iOr  merely  plain  and  honest,  has  not  en- 
•tirely  lost  the  halo  of  hero  worship.  But,  though 
the  old  man  is  permitted  to  do  as  he  prefers,  bet 
ter  things  are  demanded  of  his  sons  and  daugh 
ters.  Nor  can  the  argument  that  some  of  the 

35 


The  Art  of  Living 


greatest  men  in  our  history  have  been  nurtured 
and  brought  up  in  cabins  and  away  from  refining 
influences  be  soundly  used  against  the  advisabil 
ity  of  making  the  most  of  income,  even  though 
we  now  and  then  ask  ourselves  whether  modern 
living  is  producing  statesmen  of  equally  firm 
mould.  But  we  thrill  no  longer  at  mention  of  a 
log  cabin  or  rail  splitting,  and  the  very  name  of 
hard  cider  suggests  rather  unpleasantly  the  cor 
ner  grocery  store  and  the  pie-permeated,  hair 
cloth  suited  New  England  parlor. 

Merely  because  other  nations  have  long  been 
aware  that  it  was  wise  and  not  immoral  to  try  to 
live  comfortably  and  beautifully  our  change  of 
faith  is  no  less  absorbing  to  us.  We  confidently 
expect  to  win  fresh  laurels  by  our  originality,  in 
telligence,  and  unselfishness  in  this  new  old  field. 
Already  have  we  made  such  strides  that  our  es 
tablishments  on  this  side  of  the  water  make  up  in 
genuine  comfort  what  they  lack  in  ancient  mano 
rial  picturesqueness  and  ghost  -  haunted  grace. 
Each  one  of  us  who  is  in  earnest  is  asking  how  he 
is  to  make  the  most  of  what  he  has  or  earns,  so  as 
to  attain  that  charm  of  refined  living  which  is 
civilization's  best  flower — living  which  if  merely 
material  and  unanimated  by  intelligence  and  noble 
aims  is  without  charm,  but  which  is  made  vastly 
more  difficult  of  realization  in  case  we  are  with 
out  means  or  refuse  to  spend  them  adequately. 


THE  DWELLING 


MR.  AND  MRS.  JULIUS  CAESAR,  who,  as  you  may 
remember,  divide  their  income  into  parts 
with  mathematical  precision,  were  not  as  well  off 
in  this  world's  goods  at  the  time  of  their  marriage 
as  they  are  now.  Neither  Mr.  Caesar's  father  nor 
Mrs.  Cassar's  grandmother  was  then  dead,  and  con 
sequently  "the  newly  wedded  pair,  though  set  up 
by  their  respective  fam 
ilies  with  a  comfortable 
income,  felt  that  it  was 
incumbent  upon  them  to 
practise  strict  economy. 
Then  it  was  that  Julius 
conceived  what  seemed 
to  them  both  the  happy 
idea  of  buying  a  house 
dirt  cheap  in  a  neighbor 
hood  which  was  not  yet 
improved,  and  improv 
ing  the  neighborhood, 
instead  of  paying  an  ex- 
orbitant  price  for  a  res- 


Mr.  char's  father. 


The  Art  of  Living 


idence  in  a  street  which  was  already  all  it  should 
be. 

"  Why,"  said  Julius,  "  shouldn't  we  buy  one  of 
those  new  houses  in  Sunset  Terrace  ?  They  look 
very  attractive,  and  if  we  can  only  induce  two 


"Julius,  you  are  a  genius." 

or  three  congenial  couples  to  join  forces  with 
us  we  shall  have  the  nucleus  of  a  delightful 
colony." 

"  Besides,  everything  will  be  nice  and  new," 
said  Mrs.  Julius,  or  Dolly  Cassar,  as  her  friends 
know  her.  "  No  cockroaches,  no  mice,  no  moths, 
no  family  skeletons  to  torment  us.  Julius,  }-ou 

38 


The  Dwelling 

arc  a  genius.     We  can  just  as  well  set  the  fashion 
as  follow  meekly  in  fashion's  wake." 

So  said,  so  done.  Julius  Caesar  bent  his  intel 
lect  upon  the  matter  and  soon  found  three  con 
genial  couples  who  were  willing  to  join  forces  with 
him.  Before  another  twelve  months  had  passed, 
four  baby-wagons — one  of  them  double-seated — 
were  to  be  seen  on  four  sunny  grass-plots  in  front 
of  four  attractive,  artistic-looking  villas  on  Sun 
set  Terrace.  Where  lately  sterility,  mortar,  and 
weeds  had  held  carnival,  there  was  now  an  air 
of  tasteful  gentility.  Thanks  to  the  example  of 
Dolly  Cassar,  who  had  an  eye  and  an  instinct  for 
such  matters,  the  four  brass  door-plates  shone  like 
the  sun,  the  paint  was  spick  and  span,  the  four 
gravel  paths  were  in  apple-pie  order,  the  four 
grass-plots  were  emerald  from  timely  use  of  a  re 
volving  lawn  sprinkler,  and  the  four  nurse-maids, 
who  watched  like  dragons  over  the  four  baby- 
wagons,  were  neat-looking  and  comely.  No  won 
der  that  by  the  end  of  the  second  year  there  was 
not  a  vacant  house  in  the  street,  and  that  every 
body  who  wished  to  live  in  a  fashionable  locality 
was  eager  for  a  chance  to  enter  Sunset  Terrace. 
No  wonder,  too,  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Julius  Cassar 
were  able,  by  the  end  of  the  fourth  year,  to  emerge 
from  Sunset  Terrace  with  a  profit  on  the  sale  of 
their  villa  which  made  it  rent  free  for  the  entire 
period,  and  left  them  with  a  neat  little  surplus  to 


The  Art  of  Living 


boot,  and  to  settle  down  with  calm  minds  on  really 
fashionable  Belport  Avenue,  in  the  stately  mansion 
devised  to  them  by  Mrs.  Caesar's  grandmother. 
Now,  it  must   be  borne  in  mind  that  a  Mr.  and 
Mrs.   Julius   Cassar  can    sometimes 
do    that    which    a    Mr.    and    Mrs. 
George    J.    Spriggs    find    difficulty 
in  accomplish 
ing.    Spriggs, 
at  the  time  of 
his     marriage 
1     to  Miss  Flor 
ence      Green, 
the    daughter 
of     ex -Assistant 
Postmaster- Gen 
eral    Homer   W. 
Green,  conceived 
the    happy    idea 
of  setting  up  his 
household  gods  in  Locust 
Road,  which  lies  about  as 
far  from  Belport  Avenue 
in  one  direction  as  Sunset 
Both    are   semi-suburban. 
It  also  occurred  to  him  at  the  outset  to  join  forces 
with  three  or  four  congenial  couples,  but  at  the 
last  moment  the  engagement  of  one  of  the  couples 
in  question  was  broken,  and  the  other  three  de- 

4° 


"  I   sha'n't  be  a  bit  lonely  with  you, 
George." 

Terrace  in  the  other. 


The  Dwelling 

cided  to  live  somewhere  else.  To  have  changed 
his  mind  then  would  have  involved  the  sacrifice 
of  one  hundred  dollars  paid  to  bind  the  bargain 
to  the  land-owner.  So  it  seemed  best  to  them  on 
the  whole  to  move  in,  as  they  had  to  live  some 
where. 

"  It's  just  a  little  bit  dreary,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  Flor 
ence  Spriggs,  pathetically,  as  she  looked  out  of 
her  bow  window  at  the  newly  finished  street 
which  was  not  finished,  and  at  the  grass-plot 
where  there  was  no  grass.  "  But  I  sha'n't  be  a 
bit  lonely  with  you,  George.'' 

"  I  wonder  if  the  color  of  this  house  has  been 
changed,"  said  Spriggs,  presently,  as  he  glanced 
up  at  the  facade  and  from  that  to  the  other  houses 
in  the  block,  each  of  which  was  vacant.  He  and 
Florence  had  gone  out  after  dinner  to  take  a  stroll 
and  survey  the  neighborhood  which  they  hoped 
to  improve. 

"  Of  course  it  hasn't !  How  could  it  be  ?  "  said 
Florence. 

"  Somehow  it  looks  a  more  staring  shade  of 
yellow  than  it  did  the  first  time  we  saw  it.  And 
I  don't  fancy  altogether  the  filigree  work  on  the 
door,  or  that  Egyptian  renaissance  scroll  set  in 
to  the  eastern  wall,  do  you,  dearest  ?  Howev 
er,  we're  in  now  and  can't  get  out,  for  the  title 
has  passed.  I  wonder  who  will  buy  the  other 
houses?  " 

4» 


The  Art  of  Living- 


They  were  soon  to  know.  They  were  alone  all 
winter,  but  in  the  early  spring  a  family  moved  in 
on  either  side  of  them.  The  houses  in  Locust 
Road,  like  those  in  Sunset  Terrace,  were  of  the 
villa  order,  with  grass-plots,  which  were  almost 
lawns,  appurtenant.  Though  less  pleasing  than 
those  which  had  taken  the  more  discerning  eye 
of  Mrs.  Julius  Caesar,  they  were  nevertheless 
comparatively  inoffensive  and 
sufficiently  tasteful.  Neighbor 
number  one  proved  to  be  of  an 
enterprising  and  imaginative 
turn.  He  changed  the  color  of 
his  villa  from  staring  yellow  to 
startling  crushed  strawberry, 
supplemented  his  Egyptian  re 
naissance  scroll  and  filigree  with 
inlaid  jewel  and  frost  work,  sta 
tioned  a  cast-iron  stag  in  one 
corner  of  the  grass-plot  and  a 
cast-iron  Diana  with  a  bow  in 
another,  and  then  rested  on  his 
laurels.  Neighbor  number  two 
was  shiftless  and  untidy.  His 
grass-plot  did  not  thrive,  and 
the  autumn  leaves  choked  his 
gravel  path.  His  windows  were  never  washed, 
his  blinds  hung  askew,  and  his  one  maid-of-all- 
work  preferred  the  lawn  to  the  laundry  as  a  dry- 


In  his  shirt  sleeves. 


The  Dwelling 

ing-room.  His  wife  sunned  herself  in  a  wrapper, 
and  he  himself  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  A  big  mon 
grel  dog  drooled  perpetually  on  the  piazza  or 
tracked  it  with  his  muddy  feet,  and  even  the 
baby-wagon  wore  the  appearance  of  dilapidation 
and  halted  because  of  a  broken  spring. 

The  Spriggses  tried  to  be  lenient  and  even 
genial  with  both  these  neighbors,  but  somehow 
the  attempt  was  not  successful.  Neighbor  num 
ber  one  became  huffy  because  Spriggs  took  no 
notice  of  his  advice  that  he  embellish  his  grass- 
plot  with  a  stone  mastiff  or  an  umbrella  and  cherub 
fountain,  and  neighbor  number  two  took  offence 
because  Spriggs  complained  that  the  ventilator 
on  his  chimney  kept  Mrs.  Spriggs  awake  by 
squeaking.  Mrs.  Spriggs  did  her  best  to  set  them 
both  a  good  example  by  having  everything  as 
tasteful  on  the  one  hand  and  as  tidy  on  the  other 
as  it  should  be.  In  the  hope  of  improving  them 
she  even  dropped  suggestive  hints  as  to  how 
people  ought  to  live,  but  the  hints  were  not  taken. 
What  was  worse  none  of  the  other  houses  were 
taken.  As  Spriggs  pathetically  expressed  it,  the 
iron  stag  on  the  one  side  and  the  weekly  wash  on 
the  other  kept  purchasers  at  bay.  He  tried  to 
buoy  himself  up  by  believing  that  a  glut  in  the 
real  estate  market  was  the  cause  why  the  remain 
ing  villas  in  Locust  Road  hung  fire,  but  this  con 
solation  was  taken  away  from  him  the  following 

43 


The  Art  of  Living 


spring  when  an  active  buying  movement  all  along 
the  line  still  left  them  without  other  neighbors. 
The  unoccupied  villas  had  begun  to  wear  an  air 
of  dilapidation,  in  spite  of  their  Egyptian  renais 
sance  scrolls  and  the  presence  of  a  cast-iron  Diana. 

To  crown  the  situation  the  baby  of  neighbor 
number  two  caught  diphtheria  from  being  left  in 
its  halting  wagon  by  the  maid-of-all-work  too  near 
the  cesspool  on  the  lawn,  and  was  kissed  by  the 
Spriggs  baby  before  the  fact  was  discovered.  If 
there  is  one  thing  more  irritating  to  the  maternal 
mind  than  another,  it  is  to  have  dear  baby  catch 
something  from  the  child  of  people  whom  you 
reprobate.  One  feels  that  the  original  horrors  of 
the  disease  are  sure  to  be  enhanced  through  such 
a  medium.  When  the  only  child  of  the  Julius 
Caesars  died  of  the  same  disease,  contracted  from 
a  germ  inhaled  on  Belport  Avenue,  the  parents 
felt  that  only  destiny  was  to  blame.  On  the  other 
hand,  though  the  Spriggs  baby  recovered,  Mrs. 
Spriggs  never  quite  forgave  herself  for  what 
had  happened.  Before  the  next  autumn  Spriggs 
parted  with  his  estate  on  Locust  Road  for  so 
much  less  than  he  had  paid  for  it  that  he  felt 
obliged  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  his  wife's 
father,  ex -Assistant  Postmaster -General  Green, 
during  the  succeeding  winter. 

The  moral  of  this  double-jointed  tale  is  two 
fold  ;  firstly  that  the  young  householder  cannot. 

44 


The  Dwelling 


always  count  upon  improving  the  neighborhood 
in  which  he  sets  up  his  goods  and  chattels  after 
marriage,  and  secondly,  that,  in  case  the  neigh 
borhood  fails  to  improve,  a  tenancy  for  a  year 
or  two  is  a  less  serious  burden  than  absolute 
ownership.  It  is  extremely  pleasant,  to  be  sure, 
to  be  able  to  declare  that  one  has  paid  for  one's 
house,  and  I  am  aware  that  the  consciousness 
of  unencumbered  ownership  in  the  roof  over  one's 
head  affords  one  of  the  most  affecting  and  effec 
tive  opportunities  for  oratory  which  the  freeborn 
citizen  can  desire.  The  hand  of  many  a  husband 
and  father  has  been  stayed  from  the  wine-cup 
or  the  gaming-table  by  the  pathetic  thought  that 
he  owned  his  house.  As  a  rule,  too,  it  is  cheaper 
to  pay  the  interest  on  a  mortgage  than  to  pay 
rent,  and  if  one  is  perfectly  sure  of  being  able  to 
improve  the  neighborhood,  or  at  least  save  it 
from  degeneration,  it  certainly  seems  desirable 
to  be  the  landlord  of  one's  house,  even  though 
it  be  mortgaged  so  cleverly  that  the  equity  of 
redemption  is  merely  a  name.  But  in  this  age 
of  semi-suburban  development,  when  Roads  and 
Terraces  and  Parks  and  Gates  and  other  Anglo- 
European  substitutes  for  streets  serve  as  "springes 
to  catch  woodcocks,"  a  young  couple  on  real 
estate  ownership  bent  should  have  the  discerning 
eye  of  a  Mrs.  Julius  Caesar  in  order  not  to  fall  a 
prey  to  the  specious  land  and  lot  speculator.  If 


The  Art  of  Living 


you  happen  to  hit  on  a  Sunset  Terrace,  every 
thing  is  rose  color,  but  to  find  one's  self  an  owner 
in  fee  on  a  Locust  Road,  next  door  to  crushed 
strawberry  and  a  cast-iron  stag,  will  palsy  the 
hopes  of  the  hopeful. 

What  attractive,  roomy,  tasteful  affairs  many 
of  these  semi-suburban  villas,  which  are  built 
nowadays  on  the  new  Roads,  Terraces,  Parks, 
Gates,  and  even  Streets,  are  to  be  sure.  There 
are  plenty  of  homely  ones  too,  but  it  is  a  simple 
matter  to  avoid  the  Egyptian  renaissance  scroll, 
and  the  inlaid  jewel  work  and  stained-glass  bull's 
eyes  if  one  only  will.  They  seem  to  be  affording 
to  many  a  happy  solution  of  the  ever  new  and 
ever  old  problem,  which  presents  itself  to  every 
man  who  is  about  to  take  a  wife,  whether  it  is 
preferable  to  live  in  the  city  or  the  country. 
These  new  suburbs,  or  rather  outlying  wards  of 
our  large  cities,  which  have  been  carved  out  of 
what,  not  many  years  ago,  was  real  country  where 
cows  browsed  and  woods  flourished,  must  be 
very  alluring  to  people  who  would  fain  live  out 
of  town  and  still  be  in  it.  When,  by  stepping  on 
an  electric  car  or  taking  the  train,  you  can,  within 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  be  on  your  own  piazza  in 
haling  fresh  air  and  privileged  to  feast  your  eyes 
on  a  half  acre  or  less  of  greensward  belonging  to 
yourself,  there  would  seem  to  be  strong  induce 
ments  for  refusing  to  settle  down  in  a  stuff}', 


The  Dwelling 

smoky,  dusty,  wire-pestered  city  street,  however 
fashionable.  Rapid  transit  has  made  or  is  mak 
ing  the  environs  of  our  cities  so  accessible  that 
the  time-honored  problem  presents  itself  under 
different  conditions  than  formerly.  There  is  no 
such  thing  now  as  the  real  country  for  anybody 
who  is  not  prepared  to  spend  an  hour  in  the 
train.  Even  then  one  is  liable  to  encounter  as 
phalt  walks  and  a  Soldier's  monument  in  the 
course  of  a  sylvan  stroll.  But  the  intervening 
territory  is  ample  and  alluring. 

For  one-half  the  rent  demanded  for  a  town 
house  of  meagre  dimensions  in  the  middle  of  a 
block,  with  no  outlook  whatever,  new,  spacious, 
airy,  ornamental  homes  with  a  plot  of  land  and  a 
pleasing  view  attached,  are  to  be  had  for  the  seek 
ing  within  easy  living  distance  from  nearly  every 
large  city.  When  I  begin  to  rhapsodize,  as  I 
sometimes  do,  I  am  apt  to  ask  myself  why  it  is 
that  anybody  continues  to  live  in  town.  It  was 
only  the  other  day  that  I  happened,  while  driving 
with  my  wife  in  the  suburbs,  to  call  her  attention, 
enthusiastically,  to  the  new  house  which  Perkins 
has  secured  for  himself.  You  may  remember  that 
Perkins  is  the  thin,  nervous  lawyer  with  four 
daughters,  who  is  solicitous  as  to  what  will  be 
come  of  them  when  he  is  dead.  We  drove  by 
just  as  he  came  up  the  avenue  from  the  station, 
which  is  only  a  three  minutes'  walk  from  the 

47 


The  Art  of  Living 


house.  He  looked  tired — he  always  does — but 
there  was  already  a  fresh  jauntiness  in  his  tread 
as  though  he  sniffed  ozone.  He  looked  up  at  the 
new  house  complacently,  as 
well  he  might,  for  it  is  large 
enough  even  for  four  daugh 
ters,  and  has  all  the  engaging 
impressiveness  of  a  not  too 
quaintly  proportioned  and 
not  too  abnormally  stained 
modern  villa,  a  highly 
evolved  composite  of  an  old 
colonial  mansion,  a  Queen 
Anne  cottage,  and  a  French 
chateau.  Before  he  reached 
the  front  door,  two  of  his 
daughters  ran  out  to  em 
brace  him  and  relieve  him 
of  his  bag  and  bundles,  and 
a  half-hour  later,  as  we  drove 
back,  he  was  playing  lawn- 
tennis  with  three  of  his  girls, 
in  a  white  blazer  with  pink 
stripes  and  knickerbockers,  which  gave  his  thin 
and  eminently  respectable  figure  a  rather  rakish 
air. 

"  Barbara,"  I  said  to  my  wife,  "  why  isn't  Per 
kins  doing  the  sensible  thing  ?  That's  a  charming 
house,  double  the  size  he  could  get  for  the  same 


He   looked  tired — he  always 
does. 


The  Dwelling 

money  in  town — and  the  rent  is  eight  hundred  or 
a  thousand  dollars  instead  of  fifteen  hundred  or 
two  thousand.  He  needs  fewer  servants  out  here, 
for  the  parlor-maid  isn't  kept  on  tenter-hooks  to 
answer  the  door-bell,  and  there  is  fresh  air  to  come 
back  to  at  night,  and  the  means  for  outdoor  exer 
cise  on  his  own  or  his  neighbor's  lawn,  which  for 
a  nervous,  thin-chested,  sedentary  man  like  Per 
kins  is  better  than  cod-liver  oil.  Think  what  ro 
bust  specimens  those  daughters  should  be  with 
such  opportunities  for  .tennis,  golf,  skating,  and 
bicycling. 

On  Sundays  and  holidays,  if  the  spirit  moves 
him  and  his  wife  and  the  girls  to  start  off  on 
an  exploring  expedition,  they  are  not  obliged  to 
take  a  train  or  pound  over  dusty  pavements  be 
fore  they  begin ;  the  wild  flowers  and  autumn 
foliage  and  chestnut-burrs  are  all  to  be  had  in  the 
woods  and  glens  within  a  mile  or  two  of  their  own 
home.  Or  if  he  needs  to  be  undisturbed,  no  noise, 
no  interruption,  but  nine  hours'  sleep  and  an  at 
mosphere  suited  to  rest  and  contemplation  on  his 
piazza  or  by  his  cheerful,  tasteful  fireside.  Why 
isn't  this  preferable  to  the  artificial,  restless  life  of 
the  city  ?  " 

"  And  yet,"  said  Barbara,  "  I  have  heard  you 
state  that  only  a  rich  man  can  afford  to  live  in  the 
country." 

Women  certainly  delight  to  store  up  remarks 


The  Art  of  Living 


made  in  quite  another  connection,  and  use  them 
as  random  arguments  against  us. 

"  My  dear  Barbara,"  said  I,  "  this  is  not  the 
country.  Of  course  in  the  real  country,  one 
needs  so  many  things  to  be  comfortable  nowa 
days  —  a  large  house,  stables,  horses,  and  what 
not — it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  a  poor  man 
with  social  or  cultivated  instincts  had  better  stay 
in  town.  But  have  not  Perkins  and  these  other 
semi-suburbanites  hit  the  happy  medium  ?  They 
have  railroads  or  electric  cars  at  their  doors,  and 
yet  they  can  get  real  barn-yard  smells." 

"I  doubt  if  they  can,"  said  Barbara.  "That  is, 
unless  they  start  a  barn-yard  for  the  purpose,  and 
that  would  bring  the  health  authorities  down  up 
on  them  at  once.  If  this  were  the  country,  I  could 
entirely  thrill  at  the  description  you  have  just 
given  of  your  friend  Mr.  Perkins.  The  real  coun 
try  is  divine ;  but  this  is  oleomargarine  country. 
On  the  other  hand,  however,  I  quite  agree  with  you 
that  if  Mr.  Perkins  is  delicate,  this  is  a  far  health 
ier  place  for  him  than  the  city,  in  spite  of  the  jour 
ney  in  the  train  twice  a  day.  The  houses — his  house 
in  particular — are  lovely,  and  I  dare  say  we  all 
ought  to  do  the  same.  He  can  certainly  come  in 
contact  with  nature — such  nature  as  there  is  left 
within  walking  distance — easier  than  city  people. 
But  to  console  me  for  not  having  one  of  these  new, 
roomy  villas,  and  to  prevent  you  from  doing  any- 


The  Dwelling 

thing  rash,  I  may  as  well  state  a  few  objections  to 
your  paradise.  As  to  expense,  of  course  there  is 
a  saving  in  rent,  and  it  is  true  that  the  parlor 
maid  does  not  have  to  answer  the  door-bell  so 
often,  and  accordingly  can  do  other  things  in 
stead.  Consequently,  too,  Mrs.  Perkins  and  the 
four  girls  may  get  into  the  habit  of  going  about 
untidy  and  in  their  old  clothes.  A  dowdy  girl 
with  rosy  cheeks  and  a  fine  constitution  is  a  piti 
able  object  in  this  age  of  feminine  progress.  Mr. 
Perkins  will  have  to  look  out  for  this,  and  he 
may  require  cod-liver  oil  after  all. 

"Then  there  is  the  question  of  schools.  In 
many  of  these  semi-suburban  paradises  there  are 
no  desirable  schools,,  especially  for  girls,  which 
necessitates  perpetual  coming  and  going  on  trains 
and  cars,  and  will  make  education  a  wearisome 
thing,  especially  for  Mrs.  Perkins.  She  will  find, 
too,  that  her  servants  are  not  so  partial  to  wild 
flowers  and  chestnut-burrs  and  fresh  air  as  her 
husband  and  daughters.  Only  the  inexperienced 
will  apply,  and  they  will  come  to  her  reluctantly, 
and  as  soon  as  she  has  accustomed  them  to  her 
ways  and  made  them  skilful,  they  will  tell  her 
they  are  not  happy,  and  need  the  society  of  their 
friends  in  town. 

"  Those  are  a  few  of  the  drawbacks  to  the 
semi-suburban  villa ;  but  the  crucial  and  most  se 
rious  objection  is,  that  unless  one  is  very  watch- 


The  Art  of  Living 


ful,  and  often  in  spite  of  watchfulness,  the  semi- 
suburbanite  shuts  himself  off  from  the  best  social 
interests  and  advantages.  He  begins  by  imagin 
ing  that  there  will  be  no  difference ;  that  he  will 
see  just  as  much  of  his  friends  and  go  just  as  fre 
quently  to  balls  and 
dinner-parties,  the 
concert  and  the  the 
atre,  the  education 
al  or  philanthropic 
meeting.  But  just 
that  requisite  and 
impending  twenty 
minutes  in  the  train 
or  electric  car  at  the 
fag  end  of  the  day  is 
liable  to  make  a  her 
mit  of  him  to  all  in 
tents  and  purposes 
by  the  end  of  the  sec 
ond  year.  Of  course, 
if  one  is  rich  and  has 
one's  own  carriage, 
the  process  of  growing  rusty  is  more  gradual, 
though  none  the  less  sure.  On  that  very  account 
most  people  with  a  large  income  come  to  town 
for  a  few  months  in  winter  at  any  rate.  There 
are  so  many  things  in  life  to  do,  that  even  friends 
with  the  best  and  most  loving  intentions  call 

52 


'The  electric  car  at  the  fag  end  of  the  day." 


The  Dwelling 

once  on  those  who  retire  to  suburban  villas  and 
let  that  do  lor  all  time.  To  be  sure,  some  peo 
ple  revel  in  being-  hermits  and  think  social  en 
tertainments  and  excitements  a  mere  waste  of 
time  and  energy.  I  am  merely  suggesting  that 
for  those  who  wish  to  keep  in  close  touch  with 
the  active  human  interests  of  the  day,  the  semi- 
suburban  villa  is  somewhat  of  a  snare.  The  Per 
kinses  will  have  to  exercise  eternal  vigilance,  or 
they  will  find  themselves  seven  evenings  out  of 
seven  nodding  by  their  fire-side  after  an  ample 
meal,  with  all  their  social  instincts  relaxed." 

Undeniably  Barbara  offered  the  best  solution 
of  this  question  in  her  remark,  that  those  who  can 
afford  it  spend  the  spring  and  autumn  in  the 
country  and  come  to  town  for  the  winter  months. 
Certainly,  if  I  were  one  of  the  persons  who  are 
said  to  have  too  much  for  their  own  good,  I 
should  do  something  of  the  kind.  I  might  not 
buy  a  suburban  villa;  indeed,  I  would  rather  go 
to  the  real  country,  where  there  are  lowing  kine, 
and  rich  cream  and  genuine  barnyard  smells,  in 
stead  of  electric  cars  and  soldiers'  monuments. 
There  would  I  remain  until  it  was  time  to  kill  the 
Thanksgiving  turkey,  and  then  I  would  hie  me 
to  town  in  order  to  refresh  my  mental  faculties 
with  city  sights  and  sounds  (hiring  the  winter- 
spring  solstice,  when  the  lowing  kine  are  all  in 
the  barn,  and  even  one  who  owns  a  suburban  villa 

53 


The  Art  of  Living 


has  to  fight  his  Avay  from  his  front  door  through 
snow-drifts,  and  listen  to  the  whistling  wind  in 
stead  of  the  robin  red-breast  or  tinkling  brook. 

Patterson,  the  banker,  is  surely  to  be  envied  in 
his  enjoyment  of  two  establishments,  notwith 
standing  that  the  double  ownership  suggests 
again  the  effete  civilizations  of  Europe,  and 
was  once  considered  undemocratic.  Patterson, 
though  his  son  has  been  through  the  Keeley 
cure,  and  his  daughter  lives  apart  from  her  hus 
band,  has  a  charming  place  thirty-five  miles  from 
town,  where  he  has  man}'  acres  and  many  horses, 
cows,  and  sheep,  an  expanse  of  woods,  a  running 
stream,  delicious  vegetables  and  fruit;  golf  links, 
and  a  fine  country  house  with  all  the  modern  im 
provements,  including  a  cosey,  spacious  library. 
Then  he  has  another  house — almost  a  palace — in 
town  which  he  opens  in  the  late  autumn  and  oc 
cupies  until  the  middle  of  May,  for  Patterson,  in 
spite  of  some  foibles,  is  no  tax  dodger. 

Yes,  to  have  two  houses  and  live  half  of  the 
year  in  town  and  the  other  half  in  the  country, 
with  six  to  eight  weeks  at  the  seaside  or  moun 
tains,  so  as  to  give  the  children  salt  air  and  bath 
ing,  or  a  thorough  change,  is  what  most  of  us 
would  choose  in  case  we  were  blessed  with  too 
much  for  our  own  good.  But,  unfortunately  or 
fortunately,  most  of  us  with  even  comfortable  in 
comes  cannot  have  two  houses,  and  consequently 


The  Dwelling 

must  choose  between  town  and  country  or  semi- 
country,  especially  as  the  six  or  eight  weeks  at 
the  sea-side  or  mountains  is  apt  to  seem  impera 
tive  when  midsummer  comes.  According,  there 
fore,  as  we  select  to  live  in  one  or  the  other,  it 
behooves  us  to  practise  eternal  vigilance,  so  that 
we  may  not  lose  our  love  of  nature  and  wreck 
our  nerves  in  the  worldly  bustle  of  city  life,  or 
become  inert,  rusty,  and  narrow  among  the  low 
ing  kine  or  in  semi-suburban  seclusion.  In  order 
to  live  wisely,  we  who  dwell  in  the  cities  should 
in  our  spare  hours  seek  fresh  air,  sunlight,  and 
intercourse  with  nature,  and  we  whose  homes  are 
out  of  town  should  in  our  turn  rehabilitate  our 
social  instincts  and  rub  up  our  manners. 

Regarding  the  real  country,  there  is  one  other 
consideration  of  which  I  am  constantly  reminded 
by  a  little  water-color  hanging  in  my  library, 
painted  by  me  a  few  years  ago  while  I  was  stay 
ing  with  my  friend  Henley.  It  represents  a 
modest  but  pretty  house  and  a  charming  rustic 
landscape.  I  call  it  Henley's  Folly.  Henley,  who 
possessed  ardent  social  instincts,  had  always  lived 
in  town ;  but  he  suddenly  took  it  into  his  head  to 
move  thirty  miles  into  the  country.  He  told  me 
that  he  did  so  primarily  for  the  benefit  of  his  wife 
and  children,  but  added  that  it  would  be  the  best 
thing  in  the  world  for  him,  that  it  would  domesti 
cate  him  still  more  completely,  and  give  him  time 


The  Art  of  Living 

to  read  and  cultivate  himself.  When  I  went  to 
stay  with  him  six  months  later,  he  was  jubilant 
regarding  the  delights  of  the  country,  and  de- 


I  call  it  Henley's  Folly. 

clared  that  he  had  become  a  genuine  farmer.  He 
pished  at  the  suggestion  that  the  daily  journey  to 
and  from  town  was  exhausting,  and  informed  me 
that  his  one  idea  was  to  get  away  from  the 
bricks  and  mortar  as  early  in  the  afternoon  as 
possible.  Just  two  years  later  I  heard  with  sur 
prise,  one  day,  that  the  Henleys  had  sold  their 

56 


The  Dwelling 

farm  and  were  coming  back  to  town.  The  rea 
son — confided  to  me  by  one  of  the  family — was 
that  his  wife  was  so  much  alone  that  she  could 
not  endure  the  solitude  any  longer.  "  You  see," 
said  my  informant,  "  the  nearest  house  of  their 
friends  was  four  miles  off,  and  as  Henley  stayed 
in  town  until  the  last  gun  fired,  the  days  he  re 
turned  home  at  all,  and  as  he  had  or  invented  a 
reason  for  staying  in  town  all  night  at  least  once 
a  week,  poor  Mrs.  Henley  realized  that  the  lot  of 
a  farmer's  wife  was  not  all  roses  and  sunshine." 
From  this  I  opine  that  if  one  with  ardent  social 
instincts  would  live  wisely  he  should  not  become 
a  gentleman  farmer  merely  for  the  sake  of  his 
wife  and  children. 


II 

WHETHER  we  live  in  the  city  or  the  country, 
it  must  be  apparent  to  all  of  us  that  a  great  wave 
of  architectural  activity  in  respect  to  dwelling- 
houses  has  been  spreading  over  our  land  during 
the  past  twenty  years.  The  American  architect 
has  been  getting  in  his  work  and  showing  what 
he  could  do,  with  the  result  that  the  long,  monot 
onous  row  of  brick  or  freestone  custom-made  city 
houses,  and  the  stereotyped  white  country  farm 
house  with  green  blinds  and  an  ell  or  lean-to 
attached,  have  given  place  to  a  vivid  and  hetero- 

57 


The  Art  of  Living 


geneous  display  of  individual  effort.  Much  of 
this  is  fine  and  some  deadly,  for  the  display  in 
cludes  not  merely  the  generally  tasteful  and  artis 
tic  conceptions  of  our  trained  native  architects, 
who  have  studied  in  Paris,  but  the  raw  notions  of 
all  the  builders  of  custom-made  houses  who,  rec 
ognizing  the  public  desire  for  striking  and  origi 
nal  effects,  are  bent  upon  surpassing  one  another. 

Therefore,  while  we  have  many  examples,  both 
urban  and  suburban,  of  beautiful  and  impressive 
house  architecture,  the  new  sections  of  our  cities 
and  suburbs  fairly  bristle  with  a  multiplicity  of 
individual  experiments  in  which  the  salient  feat 
ures  of  every  known  type  of  architecture  arc 
blended  fearlessly  together.  The  native  archi 
tect  who  has  neither  been  to  Paris  nor  been  able 
to  devote  much  time  to  study  has  not  been  lim 
ited  in  the  expression  of  his  genius  by  artistic 
codes  or  conventions.  Consequently  he  has  felt 
no  hesitation  in  using  extinguisher  towers,  medi 
aeval  walls,  battlement  effects,  Queen  Anne  cot 
tage  lines,  Old  Colonial  proportions,  and  Eastern 
imagery  in  the  same  design,  and  any  one  of  them 
at  any  critical  juncture  when  his  work  has  seemed 
to  him  not  sufficiently  striking  for  his  own  or  the 
owner's  taste. 

Satisfactory  as  all  this  is  as  evidence  of  a  pro 
gressive  spirit,  and  admitting  that  many  of  even 
these  lawless  manifestations  of  talent  are  not  with- 

58 


The  Dwelling 

out  merit,  it  is  nevertheless  aggressively  true 
that  the  smug  complacency  of  the  proprietor  of 
the  suburban  villa,  which  is  hedged  about  by  a 
stone  rampart  of  variegated  rough  stone  on  an 
ordinary  building  lot,  has  no  justification  what 
ever.  Nor  has  the  master  of  the  castellated, 
gloomy,  half  -  Moorish,  half -mediaeval  mansion, 
which  disfigures  the  fashionable  quarter  of  many 
of  our  cities,  occasion  to  congratulate  himself  on 
having  paid  for  a  thing  of  beauty.  The  number 
of  our  well-trained  architects,  though  constantly 
increasing,  is  still  small,  especially  as  compared 
with  the  number  of  people  of  means  who  are 
eager  to  occupy  a  thing  of  beauty  ;  then,  too, 
even  the  trained  architect  is  apt  to  try  experi 
ments  for  the  sake  of  testing  his  genius,  on  a  dog, 
so  to  speak— some  confiding  plutocrat  with  a  love 
of  splendor  who  has  left  everything  to  him. 

The  result  is  that  grotesque  and  eye-distressing 
monsters  of  masonry  stand  side  by  side  on  many 
of  our  chief  avenues  with  the  most  graceful  and 
finished  specimens  of  native  architectural  inspira 
tion.  As  there  is  no  law  which  prevents  one  from 
building  or  buying  an  ugly  house,  and  as  the 
architect,  whose  experiment  on  a  dog  tortures 
the  public  eye,  suffers  no  penalty  for  his  crime, 
our  national  house  architecture  may  be  said  to  be 
working  out  its  own  salvation  at  the  public  ex 
pense.  It  is  the  duty  of  a  patriotic  citizen  to  be- 

59 


The  Art  of  Living 


lieve  that  in  this,  as  in  other  matters  of  national 
welfare,  the  beautiful  gradually  will  prevail ;  and 
assuredly  the  many  very  attractive  private  resi 
dences  which  one  sees  both  in  the  city  and  the 
country  should  tend  to  make  us  hopeful. 

Why  is  it  that  the  rich  man  who  would  live 
wisely  feels  the  necessity  for  so  large  a  house  in 
the  city  ?  Almost  the  first  thing  that  one  who  has 
accumulated  or  inherited  great  possessions  does 
nowadays  is  to  leave  the  house  where  very  likely 
he  has  been  comfortable  and  move  into  a  mam 
moth  establishment  suggesting  rather  a  palace  or 
an  emporium  than  a  house.  Why  is  this  ?  Some 
one  answers  that  it  is  for  the  sake  of  abundant 
light  and  extra  space.  Surely  in  a  handsome 
house  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  front  there 
should  be  light  and  space  enough  for  the  average 
family,  however  fastidious  or  exacting.  In  the 
country,  where  one  needs  many  spare  rooms  for 
the  accommodation  of  guests,  there  are  some  ad 
vantages  in  the  possession  of  an  abnormally  large 
house.  But  how  is  the  comfort  of  the  city  man  en 
hanced  by  one,  that  is,  if  the  attendant  discomforts 
are  weighed  in  the  same  scale  ?  It  has  sometimes 
seemed  to  me  that  the  wealthy  or  successful  man 
invests  in  a  prodigious  mansion  as  a  sort  of  testi- 
monial ;  as  though  he  felt  it  incumbent  on  him  to 
erect  a  conventional  monument  to  his  own  grand 
eur  or  success,  in  order  to  let  the  public  enter- 


The  Dwelling 

tain  no  doubt  about  it.  But  so  many  otherwise 
sensible  men  have  deliberately  built  huge  city 
houses  that  this  can  scarcely  be  the  controlling- 
motive  in  all  cases.  Perhaps,  if  asked,  they 
would  throw  the  responsibility  on  their  wives. 
But  it  is  even  more  difficult  to  understand  why 
a  sensible  woman  should  wish  one  of  the  vast 
houses  which  our  rising  architects  are  naturally 
eager  to  receive  orders  to  construct.  A  hand 
some  house  where  she  can  entertain  attractively, 
yes  :  an  exquisitely  furnished,  sunny,  corner  house 
by  all  means  ;  a  house  where  each  child  may  have 
a  room  apart  and  where  there  are  plenty  of  spare 
rooms,  if  you  like ;  but  why  a  mammoth  cave  ? 
She  is  the  person  who  will  suffer  the  discomforts 
to  be  weighed  in  the  same  scale,  for  the  care  will 
fall  on  her. 

We  have  in  this  country  neither  trained  ser 
vants  nor  the  housekeeper  system.  The  wife  and 
mother  who  is  the  mistress  of  a  huge  establish 
ment  wishes  it  to  be  no  less  a  home  than  her  former 
residence,  and  her  husband  would  be  the  first  to 
demur  were  she  to  cast  upon  others  the  burdens  of 
immediate  supervision.  A  moderate-sized  mod 
ern  house  is  the  cause  of  care  enough,  as  we  all 
know,  and  wherefore  should  any  woman  seek  to 
multiply  her  domestic  worries  by  duplicating  or 
trebling  the  number  of  her  servants.  To  become 
the  manager  of  a  hotel  or  to  cater  for  an  ocean 


The  Art  of  Living 


steamship  is  perhaps  a  tempting  ambition  for  one 
in  search  of  fortune,  but  why  should  a  woman, 
who  can  choose  what  she  will  have,  elect  to  be  the 
slave  of  a  modern  palace  with  extinguisher  tow 
ers  ?  Merely  to  be  able  to  invite  all  her  social 
acquaintance  to  her  house  once  a  year  without 
crowding  them  ?  It  would  be  simpler  to  hire  one 
of  the  many  halls  now  adapted  for  the  purpose. 

The  difficulty  of  obtaining  efficient  servants, 
and  the  worries  consequent  upon  their  ineffi 
ciency,  is  probably  the  chief  cause  of  the  rapid 
growth  of  the  apartment-house  among  us.  The 
contemporary  architect  has  selected  this  class  of 
building  for  some  of  his  deadliest  conceits.  Great 
piles  of  fantastically  disposed  stone  and  iron  tower 
up  stories  upon  stories  high,  and  frown  upon  us 
at  the  street-corners  like  so  many  Brobdingnagi- 
ans.  Most  of  them  are  very  ugly ;  nevertheless 
they  contain  the  homes  of  many  citizens,  and  the 
continuous  appearance  of  new  and  larger  speci 
mens  attest  their  increasing  popularity.  Twenty 
years  ago  there  was  scarcely  an  apartment-house 
to  be  seen  in  our  cities.  There  was  a  certain  num 
ber  of  hotels  where  families  could  and  did  live  all 
the  year  round,  but  the  ten-story  monster,  with  a 
janitor,  an  elevator,  steam  heat,  electric  light,  and 
all  the  alleged  comforts  of  home,  was  practically 
unknown.  We  have  always  professed  to  be  such 
a  home-loving  people,  and  the  so-called  domestic 

64 


The  Dwelling 

hearth  has  always  been  such  a  touchstone  of  sen 
timent  among  us  that  the  exchange  of  the  family 
roof  for  the  community  of  a  flat  by  so  many  well- 
to-do  persons  certainly  seems  to  suggest  either 
that  living  cheek  by  jowl  with  a  number  of  oth 
er  households  is  not  so  distasteful  as  it  seems 
to  the  uninitiated,  or  else  that  modern  house 
keeping  is  so  irksome  that  women  are  tempted  to 
swallow  sentiment  and  escape  from  their  tram 
mels  to  the  comparatively  easy  conditions  of  an 
apartment.  It  does  seem  as  though  one's  identity 
would  be  sacrificed  or  dimmed  by  becoming  a 
tenant  in  common,  and  as  though  the  family  circle 
could  never  be  quite  the  same  thing  to  one  who 
was  conscious  that  his  was  only  a  part  of  one  tre 
mendous  whole.  And  yet,  more  and  more  people 
seem  to  be  anxious  to  share  a  janitor  and  front 
door,  and,  though  the  more  fastidious  insist  on 
their  own  cuisine,  there  are  not  a  few  content  to 
entrust  even  their  gastronomic  welfare  to  a  kitch 
en  in  common. 

It  must  be  admitted,  even  by  those  of  us  who 
rejoic6  in  our  homes,  that  there  is  much  to  be  said 
in  favor  of  the  apartment-house  as  a  solver  of 
practical  difficulties,  and  that  our  imaginations 
are  largely  responsible  for  our  antipathy.  When 
once  inside  a  private  apartment  of  the  most  desir 
able  and  highly  evolved  kind  one  cannot  but  ad 
mit  that  there  is  no  real  lack  of  privacy,  and  that 

65 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  assertion  that  the  owner  has  no  domestic 
hearth  is  in  the  main  incorrect.  To  be  sure  the 
domain  belonging  to  each  suite  is  comparatively 
circumscribed  ;  there  is  no  opportunity  for  roam 
ing  from  garret  to  cellar  ;  no  private  laundry  ;  no 
private  backyard  ;  and  no  private  front-door  steps ; 
but  to  all  practical  intents  one  is  no  less  free  from 
intrusion  or  inspection  than  in  a  private  house, 
and  it  may  also  be  said  that  reporters  and  other 
persevering  visitors  are  kept  at  a  more  respectful 
distance  by  virtue  of  the  janitor  in  common  on 
the  ground  floor.  The  sentiment  in  favor  of  lim 
ited  individual  possession  is  difficult  to  eradicate 
from  sensitive  souls,  and  rightly,  perhaps,  many 
of  us  refuse  to  be  convinced  ;  but  it  remains  true 
that  the  woman  who  has  become  the  mistress  of  a 
commodious  and  well-managed  apartment  must 
have  many  agreeable  quarters  of  an  hour  in  con 
gratulating  herself  that  perplexities  concerning 
chores,  heating,  lighting,  flights  of  stairs,  leaks, 
and  a  host  of  minor  domestic  matters  no  longer 
threaten  her  peace  of  mind,  and — greatest  boon  of 
all — that  she  now  can  manage  with  two  or  "three 
servants  instead  of  five  or  six. 

In  this  newly  developed  fondness  for  flats  we 
are  again  guilty  of  imitating  one  of  the  effete  civil 
izations — France  this  time — where  it  has  long 
been  the  custom  for  families  to  content  themselves 
with  a  story  or  two  instead  of  a  house ;  though 


66 


The  Dwelling 

we  can  claim  the  size  and  style  of  architecture  of 
the  modern  apartment  pile  as  our  special  brand 
upon  the  adopted  institution.  The  introduction 
of  the  custom  here  seems  to  me  to  be  the  result  of 
exhaustion  of  the  female  nervous  system.  The 
American  housewife,  weary  of  the  struggle  to 
obtain  efficient  servants,  having  oscillated  from 
all  Catholics  to  all  Protestants,  from  all  Irish 
to  all  Swedes  and  back  again,  having  experi 
mented  with  negroes  and  Chinamen,  and  re 
turned  to  pure  white,  having  tried  native  help 
and  been  insulted,  and  reverted  to  the  Celtic  race, 
she  —  the  long-suffering  —  has  sought  the  apart 
ment-house  as  a  haven  of  rest.  She — the  long- 
suffering — has  assuredly  been  in  a  false  position 
since  the  Declaration  of  Independence  declared 
that  all  men  are  created  equal,  for  she  has  been 
forced  to  cherish  and  preserve  a  domestic  institu 
tion  which  popular  sentiment  has  refused  to  rec 
ognize  as  consistent  with  the  principles  of  De 
mocracy.  Our  National  creed,  whether  presented 
in  the  primer  or  from  the  platform,  has  ever  re 
pudiated  the  idea  of  service  when  accompanied 
by  an  abatement  of  personal  independence  or  con 
fession  of  social  inferiority.  Therefore  the  native 
American  woman  has  persistently  refused,  in  the 
face  of  high  wages  and  of  exquisite  moral  suasion, 
to  enter  domestic  service,  and  has  preferred  the 
shop  or  factory  to  a  comfortable  home  where  she 


The  Art  of  Living 


would  have   to  crook   the   knee  and  say   "  Yes, 
ma'am." 

At  the  same  time  the  native  American  woman, 
ever  since  "  help  "  in  the  sense  of  social  acquaint 
ances  willing  to  accommodate  for  hire  and  dine 
with  the  family  has  ceased  to  adorn  her  kitchen 
and  parlor,  has  been  steadily  forced  by  the  de 
mands  of  complex  modern  living  to  have  servants 
of  her  own.  And  where  was  she  to  obtain  them  ? 
Excepting  the  negro,  only  among  the  emigrants 


The  Dwelling 


of  foreign  countries,  at  first  among  the  Irish,  and 
presently  among  the  English  and  Swedes,  all  of 
whom,  unharassed  by  scru 
ples  as  to  a  consequent  loss  of 
self-respect,  have  been  prompt 
to  recognize  that  this  field  of 
employment  lay  open  to  them 
and  was  undisputed.  They 
have  come,  and  they  still 
come  in  herds  to  our  shores, 
raw  and  undisciplined,  the 
overflow  from  their  own  coun 
tries  ;  and  as  fast  as  they  arrive 
they  are  feverishly  snapped 
up  by  the  American  house 
wife,  who  finds  the  need  of 
servants  more  and  more  im 
perative  ;  for  some  one  must 
do  the  elaborate  cooking, 
some  one  must  do  the  fine 

washing,  some  one  must  polish  the  silver,  rub  the 
brasses,  care  for  the  lamps,  and  dust  the  bric-a- 
brac  in  her  handsomest  establishment.  And  no 
one  but  the  emigrant,  or  the  son  and  daughter  of 
the  emigrant,  is  willing  to. 

The  consequence  is  that,  though  the  native 
American  woman  is  as  resolute  as  ever  in  her 
own  refusal  to  be  a  cook  or  waitress  in  a  private 
family,  domestic  service  exists  as  an  institution  no 

69 


The  Art  of  Living 


less  completely  than  it  exists  in  Europe,  and  prac 
tically  under  the  same  conditions,  save  that  ser 
vants  here  receive  considerably  higher  wages 
than  abroad  because  the  demand  is  greater  than  the 
supply.  There  is  a  perpetual  wail  in  all  our  cities 
and  suburbs  that  the  supply  of  competent  cooks, 
and  skilled  laundresses  and  maids  is  so  limited,  and 
well-trained  servants  can  demand  practically  their 
own  prices.  The  conditions  of  service,  however, 
are  the  same.  That  is,  the  servant  in  the  house 
hold  of  the  free-born  is  still  the  servant ;  and  still 
the  servant  in  the  household  where  the  mistress, 
who  has  prospered,  would  originally  have  gone 
into  service  had  she  not  been  free-born.  For  there 
is  no  one  more  prompt  than  the  American  house 
wife  to  keep  a  servant  when  she  can  afford  one, 
and  the  more  she  is  obliged  to  keep  the  prouder 
is  she,  though  her  nervous  system  may  give  way 
under  the  strain.  By  this  I  do  not  mean  that  the 
servants  here  are  ill-treated.  On  the  contrary, 
the  consideration  shown  them  is  greater,  and  the 
quarters  provided  for  them  are  far  more  comfort 
able  on  this  side  of  the  water  than  abroad.  In 
deed,  servants  fare  nowhere  in  the  world  so  well 
as  in  the  establishments  of  the  well-to-do  people 
of  our  large  cities.  Their  bedrooms  are  suitable 
and  often  tasteful,  they  are  attended  by  the  family 
physician  if  ill,  they  are  not  overworked,  and  very 
slight  checks  are  put  on  their  liberty.  But  they 


The  Dwelling 

are  undeniably  servants.  The  free-born  American 
mistress  does  not  regard  her  servants  as  social 
equals.  She  expects  them  to  stand  up  if  they  are 
sitting  down  when  she  enters  the  room.  She  ex 
pects  them  to  address  her  sons  and  daughters  as 
Mr.  Samuel  and  Miss  Fanny,  and  to  be  called  in 
turn  Maggie  or  Albertine  (or  Thompson  or  Jones, 
a  fanglaise]  without  a  prefix.  She  does  her  best, 
in  short,  to  preserve  all  the  forms  and  all  the  def 
erence  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  haughtiness  or 
condescension  on  the  other  which  govern  the  re 
lations  between  servant  and  mistress  abroad. 

From  the  fact  that  we  need  so  many  more  ser 
vants  than  formerly,  to  care  properly  for  our  es 
tablishments,  the  servant  here  is  becoming  more 
and  more  of  a  machine.  That  is,  she  is  in  nearly  the 
same  category  with  the  electric  light  and  the  fur 
nace.  We  expect  him  or  her  to  be  as  unobtrusive 
as  possible,  to  perform  work  without  a  hitch,  and 
not  to  draw  upon  our  sympathies  unnecessarily. 
The  mistress  of  one  or  two  girls  is  sure  to  grow 
friendly  and  concerned  as  to  their  outside  welfare, 
but  when  she  has  a  staff  of  five  or  six,  she  is  thank 
ful  if  she  is  not  obliged  to  know  anything  about 
them.  The  letter  which  appeared  in  a  New  York 
newspaper  some  years  ago,  from  an  American 
girl,  in  which  she  declared  that  she  had  left  ser 
vice  because  her  master  and  his  sons  handed  her 
their  dripping  umbrellas  with  the  same  air  as  they 


The  Art  of  Living 


would  have  handed  them  to  a  graven  image,  was 
thoroughly  in  point.  The  reason  the  native 
American  girl  will  not  become  a  servant,  in  spite 
of  the  arguments  of  the  rational  and  godly,  is  that 
service  is  the  sole  employment  in  this  country  in 
which  she  can  be  told  with  impunity  that  she  is 
the  social  inferior  of  anyone  else.  It  is  the  telling 
which  she  cannot  put  up  with.  It  is  one  thing  to 
be  conscious  that  the  person  you  are  constantly 
associated  with  is  better  educated,  better  man 
nered,  and  more  attractive  than  yourself,  and  it  is 
another  to  be  told  at  every  opportunity  that  this 
is  so.  In  the  shop,  in  the  factory,  and  in  other 
walks  of  life,  whatever  her  real  superiors  may 
think  of  her,  they  must  treat  her  as  a  social  equal. 
Even  that  shrill-voiced,  banged,  bangled,  imperti 
nent,  slangy,  vulgar  product  of  our  mammoth  retail 
dry -goods  system,  who  seems  to  be 
lieve  herself  a  pattern  of  ladylike 
behavior,  is  aware  in  her  heart  that 
she  does  not  know  how  to  behave, 
and  yearns  to  resemble  the 
well-bred  woman  whom  she 
daily  insults.  But  the  hap 
piness  of  her  life,  and  its 
main-spring,  too,  lies  in  the 
consciousness  that  she  is 
free  to  become  the  first  lady 

Free  to  become  the  first   lady  in        .  ,  .  ,  ,         ,  . 

the  land.  m    the   land,  and    that  she 


The  Dwelling 

herself  is  to  be  her  sole  critic  and  detractor. 
Why  is  she  not  right  in  refusing  to  sacrifice  her 
independence  ?  Why  should  she  sell  her  birth 
right  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ? 

An  anomalous  condition  of  affairs  is  presented 
by  this  contrast  between  the  free-born  American 
woman  as  a  mistress  and  as  a  revolter  against 
domestic  service,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  one  of 
two  things  must  come  to  pass.  Necessarily  we 
shall  continue  to  have  cooks,  waiting-maids,  and 
laundresses  ;  at  least  our  food  must  be  prepared, 
our  drawing-rooms  dusted,  and  our  linen  ironed 
by  some  one.  But  either  we  shall  have  to  accept 
and  acknowledge  the  existence  among  us  of  a 
class,  recruited  from  foreign  emigrants  and  their 
descendants,  which  is  tarred  with  the  brush  of 
social  proscription  in  direct  violation  of  demo 
cratic  principles,  or  we  must  change  the  conditions 
of  domestic  service — change  them  so  that  conde 
scension  and  servility  vanish,  and  the  contract  of 
service  becomes  like  the  other  contracts  of  employ 
ment  between  man  and  man,  and  man  and  woman. 

It  is  fruitless  now  to  inquire  what  the  free-born 
American  woman  would  have  done  without  the 
foreign  emigrant  to  cook  and  wash  for  her.  The 
question  is  whether,  now  that  she  has  her,  she  is 
going  to  keep  her,  and  keep  her  in  the  same  com 
fortable  and  well-paid  but  palpable  thraldom  as 
at  present.  If  so,  she  will  be  merely  imitating  the 

73 


The  Art  of  Living 


housewives  of  the  effete  civilizations  ;  she  will  be 
doing  simply  what  every  English,  French,  and 
German  woman  does  and  has  done  ever  since 
class  distinctions  began.  But  in  that  case,  surely, 
we  shall  be  no  longer  able  to  proclaim  our  immu 
nity  from  caste,  and  our  Fourth  of  July  orators 
will  find  some  difficulty  in  showing  that  other 
nations  are  more  effete  in  this  respect  than  our 
selves.  Twenty-five  years  more  of  development 
in  our  houses,  hotels,  and  restaurants,  if  conducted 
on  present  lines,  will  produce  an  enormous  duck 
ing  and  scraping,  fee-seeking,  livery-wearing  ser 
vant  class,  which  will  go  far  to  establish  the  claim 
put  forth  by  some  of  our  critics,  that  equality  on 
this  side  of  the  water  means  only  political  equality, 
and  that  our  class  distinctions,  though  not  so  ob 
vious,  are  no  less  genuine  than  elsewhere.  In  this 
event  the  only  logical  note  of  explanation  to  send 
to  the  Powers  will  be  that  social  equality  was 
never  contemplated  by  the  signers  of  the  Declara 
tion  of  Independence,  and  that,  though  it  is  true 
that  any  man  may  become  President  of  the  United 
States,  there  are  as  great  inequalities  in  morals, 
intellect,  and  manners  among  sons  of  liberty  as 
among  the  subjects  of  the  Czar.  To  this  the 
Powers  will  be  justified  in  uttering  a  disappointed 
and  slightly  ironical  "  Oh  ! "  But  perhaps  the  for 
eign  emigrant  will  have  something  to  say  on  the 
subject.  Perhaps  the  horde  from  across  the  seas, 

74 


The  Dwelling 

now  lured  by  high  wages,  will  decrease  in  num 
bers,  or  it  may  be  that  their  descendants  here  will 
learn  through  contact  with  the  free-born  revolter 
against  domestic  service  to  revolt  too. 

What  would  the  free-born  American  mistress 
do  then?  With  the  free-born  revolter  still  ob 
durate,  and  the  foreign  emigrant  ceasing  to  emi 
grate  or  recalcitrant,  she  would  be  in  an  unpleasant 
fix  in  her  elaborate  establishment  conducted  on 
effete  principles.  In  this  practical  dilemma,  rather 
than  in  an  awakened  moral  sense,  seems  to  lie  our 
best  hope  of  regeneration,  for  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  free-born  American  mistress  is  doing  all 
she  can  at  present  to  perpetuate  the  foreign  idea 
of  domestic  service,  and  it  seems  probable  that 
so  long  as  the  foreign  emigrant  is  willing  to  be 
bribed  the  true  principles  of  democracy  will  be 
violated.  Already  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  ser 
vants  is  inducing  home-loving  families  to  seek  the 
apartment-house.  A  more  distinct  dearth  would 
speedily  change  the  relations  between  mistress 
and  servant  into  that  of  contractor  and  contractee, 
as  in  other  employments  in  this  country.  It  may 
be  that  the  descendants  of  the  emigrant  will  be 
unable  to  resist  the  lure  offered  them,  and  that  the 
free-born  mistress  will  triumph.  If  so,  we  shall 
become  no  better  and  possibly  no  worse  than  the 
effete  civilizations  we  promised  to  make  blush  by 
the  worth  of  our  institutions. 


HOUSE-FURNISHING    AND    THE 
COMMISSARIAT 


AFTER  a  man  and  his  wife  have  made  up  their 
minds  whether  to  live  in  a  town  house  or 
surburban  villa,  they  are  obliged  to  consider  next 
what  they  will  have  in  the  way  of  furniture,  and 
presently  what  they  will  have  for  dinner.  The  con 
sciousness  that  a  house  has  nothing  in  it  but  the 
barest  fixtures — the  gasometer,  the  water-tanks, 
and  the  electric  wires — and  that  it  is  for  you  and 
your  wife  to  decide  exactly  what  shall  go  into  it 
jn  the  way  of  wall-papers,  carpets,  upholstery,  and 
objects  of  virtu,  is  inspiring,  even  though  your 
purse  be  not  plethoric  and  your  knowledge  of 
aesthetics  limited.  The  thought  at  once  presents 
itself  that  here  is  the  chance  of  your  lifetime 
to  demonstrate  how  beautiful  and  cosey  a  home 
may  be,  and  you  set  eagerly  to  work  to  surpass 
your  predecessors  of  equal  means.  It  is  a  worthy 
ambition  to  endeavor  to  make  the  matrimonial 
nest  or  the  home  of  maturer  years  attractive,  and 
if  we  were  to  peer  back  far  enough  into  the  past  of 


House -Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


even  this  country,  to  the  time  when  our  great  great- 
grandmothers  set  up  housekeeping  with  our  great 
great-grandfathers,  we  should  find  that  furnish- 


Here  is  the  chance  of  your  lifetime. 

ing  was  considered  a  seriously  delightful  matter, 
though  not  perhaps  the  almost  sacred  trust  we  re 
gard  it  to-day.  I  mean  our  great  great-grandpar 
ents  who  used  to  live  in  those  charming  old  colonial 
houses,  and  who  owned  the  mahogany  desks  with 
brass  handles  and  claw  feet,  the  tall  clocks,  the 
ravishing  andirons,  and  all  the  other  old-fashioned 


The  Art  of  Living 


furniture  which  is  now  so  precious  and  difficult 
to  find.  Distance  may  lend  such  enchantment  to 
a  spinning-wheel,  a  warming-pan,  or  a  spinnet, 
that  one  is  liable  to  become  hysterical  in  praise  of 
them,  and  a  calm,  aesthetic  mind,  outside  the 
limits  of  an  antique  furniture  dealer's  store,  would 
be  justified  in  stigmatizing  many  of  the  now 
cherished  effects  of  our  great  great-grandparents 
as  truck  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  who  will  dispute 
that  they  possessed  very  many  lovely  things  ? 
They  had  an  eye  for  graceful  shapes  in  their  side 
boards  and  tables  ;  somehow  the  curves  they  im 
parted  to  the  backs  of  their  chairs  cannot  be 
duplicated  now  so  as  to  look  the  same ;  and  the 
patterns  of  the  satins,  flowered  chintzes,  and  other 
stuffs  which  they  used  for  covers  and  curtains, 
exercise  a  witchery  upon  us,  even  as  we  see  them 
now  frayed  and  faded,  which  cannot  proceed 
wholly  from  the  imagination. 

They  had  no  modern  comforts,  poor  things ;  no 
furnaces,  no  ice-chests,  no  set  bath-tubs,  no  run 
ning  water,  no  sanitary  improvements,  no  gas 
or  electric  light ;  and  their  picturesque  kitchen 
hearths,  with  great  caldrons  and  cranes  and  leather 
blowers,  must  have  been  exceedingly  inconvenient 
to  cook  in ;  but  even  their  most  incommodious 
appliances  were  not  without  artistic  charm. 

After  them  came  the  deluge — the  era  of  horse 
hair,  the  Sahara  of  democratic  unloveliness,  when 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


And  the  patterns  exercise  a  witchery  upon  us. 

in  every  house,  in  every  country  town,  the  set 
best  room,  which  was  never  used  by  the  family, 
stood  like  a  mortuary  chapel  solely  for  the  recep 
tion  of  guests.  In  the  cities,  in  the  households 
of  the  then  enlightened,  rep— generally  green — 
was  frequently  substituted  for  the  sable  horse 
hair.  Then  came  the  days  when  a  dining-room 
or  drawing-room  was  furnished  in  one  pervasive 
hue— a  suit  of  sables,  a  brick  red,  a  dark  green, 
or  a  deep  maroon.  Everything  matched  ;  the 
chairs  and  tables,  desks  and  book -cases  were 
bought  in  sets  at  one  fell  swoop  by  the  house- 


The  Art  of  Living 


holder  of  the  period  who  desired  to  produce  artis 
tic  effects.  For  forty  years  or  so  this  was  the 
prevailing  fashion,  and  the  limit  of  purely  indige 
nous  expression. 

To  it  presently  succeeded  the  aesthetic  phase, 
borrowed  from  England.  Then,  instead  of  select 
ing  everything  to  match,  a  young  or  old  couple 
bought  so  as  just  not  to  match,  but  to  harmonize. 
All  sorts  of  queer  and  subtle  shades  and  tints 
in  wall-papers  and  fabrics  appeared,  principally 
dairyings  with  and  improvisings  upon  green, 
brown,  and  yellow  ;  frescos  and  dados  were  the 
rage ;  and  a  wave  of  interest  in  the  scope  and 
mission  of  eccentric  color  spread  over  the  land. 
Valuable  as  this  movement  was  as  an  educational 
factor,  there  was  nothing  American  in  it ;  or  in 
other  words,  we  were  again  simply  imitative. 
The  very  fact,  however,  that  we  were  ready  to 
imitate,  betokened  that  horse-hair  and  rep  had 
ceased  to  satisfy  national  aspiration,  and  that  we 
were  willing  to  accept  suggestions  from  without, 
inasmuch  as  no  native  prophet  had  arisen.  But 
though  the  impetus  came  from  abroad,  the  awak 
ening  was  genuine.  Since  then  the  desire  to 
furnish  tastefully  has  been  steadily  waxing  among 
the  more  well-to-do  portion  of  the  population. 
As  in  the  case  of  architecture,  the  increasing  in 
terest  has  called  into  existence  a  professional  class, 
which,  though  still  small  and  less  generally  em- 

so 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


ployed  than  their  house-designing  brethren,  are 
beginning  to  play  an  important  part  in  the  educa 
tion  of  the  public  taste  in  internal  house  decora 
tion  and  equipment.  The  idea  that  any  man  or 
woman  may  be  more  fitted  than  his  or  her  neigh 
bor  to  choose  a  carpet  or  a  wall-paper  has  been 
grudgingly  admitted,  and  still  irritates  the  aver 
age  house-owner  who  is  ready  to  furnish.  But 
the  masters,  and  more  conspicuously  the  mis 
tresses,  of  the  competing  superb  establishments  in 
our  cities,  have  learned,  from  the  sad  experience 
of  some  of  their  predecessors,  to  swallow  their 
individual  trust  in  their  own  powers  of  selection, 
and  to  put  themselves  unreservedly  into  the 
clutches  of  a  professional  house  decorator. 

Furnishing  a  mammoth  establishment  from  top 
to  bottom  with  somebody  else's  money,  and  plenty 
of  it,  must  be  a  delightful  occupation.  There  can 
be  no  carking  consciousness  of  price  to  act  as  a 
drag  on  genius,  and  it  would  seem  as  though  the 
house  decorator  who  was  not  interfered  with 
under  these  circumstances  had  a  rare  chance  to 
show  what  is  what.  When  he  fails,  which  is  by 
no  means  out  of  the  question,  he  can  ordinarily 
shift  the  responsibility  on  to  his  employer,  for  an 
employer  can  rarely  resist  the  temptation  of  insist 
ing  on  some  one  touch  to  prove  his  or  her  own 
capacity,  and  of  course  it  is  a  simple  matter  for 
the  man  of  art  to  demonstrate  that  this  one  touch 


The  Art  of  Living- 


has  spoiled  everything.  The  temptation  to  try 
to  be  as  original  and  captivating  in  results  as  pos 
sible  must  be  almost  irresistible,  especially  when 
one's  elbow  is  constantly  jogged  by  furniture  and 
other  dealers,  who  are  only  too  eager  to  repro- 


An  employer  can  rarely  resist  the  temptation  of  insisting  on  some  one  touch. 

duce  a  Directory  drawing-room  or  any  other  old- 
time  splendor.  But  there  is  no  denying  that, 
whatever  his  limitations,  the  house  decorator  is 
becoming  the  best  of  educators  on  this  side  of 
the  water,  for  though  we  cannot  afford  or  have 


House-Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


too  much  confidence  in  our  own  taste  to  employ 
him,  our  wives  watch  him  like  cats  and  are  taking 
in  his  ideas  through  the  pores,  if  not  directly. 

There  are,  it  is  true,  almost  as  many  diverse 
styles  of  internal  ornamentation  as  of  external  ar 
chitecture  in  our  modern  residences,  for  everyone 
who  has,  or  thinks  he  has,  an  aptitude  for  furnish 
ing  is  trying  his  professional  or  'prentice  hand, 
sometimes  with  startling  results  ;  yet  the  diversi 
ties  seem  less  significant  than  in  the  case  of  exter 
nal  architecture,  or  perhaps  it  may  be  said  that 
the  sum  total  of  effect  is  much  nearer  to  finality 
or  perfection.  If  as  a  nation  we  are  deriving  the 
inspiration  for  the  furniture  and  upholsteries  of 
our  drawing-rooms  and  libraries  from  the  best 
French  and  Dutch  models  of  a  century  or  more 
ago,  we  certainly  can  boast  that  the  comfortable 
features  which'  distinguish  our  apartments  from 
their  prototypes  are  a  native  growth.  If  as  a 
people  we  cannot  yet  point  to  great  original  ar 
tistic  triumphs,  may  we  not  claim  the  spacious 
and  dignified  contemporary  refrigerator,  the  con 
venient  laundry,  the  frequently  occurring  and 
palatial  bath-room,  the  health-conducing  ventila 
tor-pipe  and  sanitary  fixtures,  and  the  various 
electrical  and  other  pipes,  tubes,  and  applian 
ces  which  have  become  a  part  of  every  well- 
ordered  house,  as  a  national  cult?  To  be  gen 
uinely  comfortable  in  every  -  day  life  seems  to 

83 


The  Art  of  Living 


have  become  the  aim  all  the  world  over  of  the 
individual  seeking  to  live  wisely,  and  the  rest  of 
the  world  is  in  our  debt  for  the  many  valuable 
mechanical  aids  to  comfort  in  the  home  which 
have  been  invented  on  this  side  of  the  water. 

This  quest  for  comfort  is  being  constantly  borne 
in  mind  also  in  the  eesthetic  sense.  We  fit  our 
drawing-rooms  now  to  live  in  as  well  as  to  look 
at.  We  expect  to  sit  on  our  sofas  and  in  our  easy 
chairs  ;  hence  we  try  to  make  them  attractive  to 
the  back  as  well  as  to  the  eye.  Though  our  wives 
may  still  occasionally  pull  down  the  window- 
shades  to  exclude  a  too  dangerous  sun,  they  no 
longer  compel  us  to  view  our  best  rooms  from  the 
threshold  as  a  cold,  flawless,  forbidden  land.  The 
extreme  aesthetic  tendencies  which  were  rampant 
twenty  years  ago  have  been  toned  down  by  this 
inclination,  among  even  our  most  elaborate  house- 
furnishers,  to  produce  the  effect  that  rooms  are 
intended  for  every-day  use  by  rational  beings. 
The  ultra-queer  colors  have  disappeared,  and  the 
carpets  and  wall-papers  no  longer  suggest  perpet 
ual  biliousness  or  chronic  nightmare. 

I  think,  too,  the  idea  that  a  drawing-room  can 
be  made  bewitchingly  cosey  by  crowding  it  with 
all  one's  beautiful  and  ugly  earthly  possessions 
has  been  demonstrated  to  be  a  delusion.  In  these 
days  of  many  wedding  presents,  it  is  difficult  for 
young  people  to  resist  the  temptation  of  showing 

84 


House -Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


all  they  have  received.  I  remember  that  Mrs. 
George  J.  Spriggs — she  was  the  daughter,  you 
will  remember,  of  ex-Assistant  Postmaster-General 
Homer  W.  Green — had  seven  lamps  in  her  parlor 
in  Locust  Road,  three  of  them  with  umbrageous 
Japanese  shades.  Her  husband  explained  to  me 
that  there  had  been  a  run  on  lamps  and  pepper- 
pots  in  their  individual  case. 

Now,  Mrs.  Julius  Caesar  would  have  managed 
more  cleverly.  She  would  have  made  the  lamp- 
dealer  exchange  four  or  five  of  the  lamps  for,  say, 
an  ornamental  brass  fender,  a  brass  coal-scuttle,  or 
a  Japanese  tea-tray,  and  have  made  the  jeweller 
substitute  some  equally  desirable  table  ornaments 
for  the  pepper-pots.  And  yet,  when  I  made  my 
wedding  call  on  Mrs.  Caesar,  ten  years  ago,  I  re 
member  thinking  that  her  drawing-room  was  a 
sort  of  compromise  between  a  curiosity  shop  and 
a  menagerie.  To  begin  with,  I  stumbled  over  the 
head  of  a  tiger  skin,  which  confronted  me  as  I 
passed  through  the  portiere,  so  that  I  nearly  fell 
into  the  arms  of  my  hostess.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  had  stepped  into  a  veritable  bazaar.  A  large 
bear  skin  lay  before  the  fire  as  a  hearth-rug,  and 
on  either  side  of  the  grate  squatted  a  large, 
orientally  conceived  china  dragon  with  an  open 
mouth.  Here  and  there,  under  furniture  or  in 
corners,  were  gaping  frogs  in  bronze  or  china.  A 
low  plush-covered  table  was  densely  arrayed  with 

85 


The  Art  of  Living 


small  china  dogs  of  every  degree.  On  another 
table  was  spread  a  number  of  silver  ornaments — 
a  silver  snuff-box,  a  silver  whistle,  a  silver  feather, 


It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  stepped   into  a  veritable   bazaar. 

a  silver  match-box,  and  a  silver  shoe-buckle — all 
objects  of  virtu  of  apparently  antique  workman 
ship.  There  were  three  lamps  with  ornamental 
shades — a  fluted  china  shade,  a  paper  shade  in 
semblance  of  a  full-blown  rose,  and  a  yellow  satin 
shade  with  drooping  fringe.  From  the  low  stud 
ded  ceiling  depended  a  vast  Japanese  paper  lan 
tern.  Sundry  and  diverse  china  vases  and  shep- 

86 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


herdesses  occupied  the  mantel-piece  and  the  top 
of  the  book-case,  and  had  overflowed  on  to  a 
writing-table  supplied  with  brass  ornaments. 
There  were  numerous  pictures,  large  and  small, 
on  the  walls,  under  many  of  which  colored  china 
plates  had  been  hung.  There  were  photographs 
in  frames  everywhere.  The  actual  space  where  I 
could  stand  without  knocking  over  anything  was 
about  the  size  of  a  hat  bath,  and  was  shut  in  by  a 
circle  of  low  chairs  and  divans  besprinkled  with 
aesthetic  yellow,  green,  and  pink  soft  silk  cushions. 
On  one  of  these  divans  my  hostess  was  reclin 
ing  in  a  Grosvenor  gallery  tea-gown,  so  that  she 
seemed  to  wallow  in  cush 
ions,  and  Julius  Csesar 
himself  was  sunk  in  the 
depths  of  one  of  the  chairs, 
so  near  the  ground  that  his 
knees  seemed 
to  rest  on  his 
chin,  and  one 


My  hostess  seemed    to  wallow  in  cushions. 
87 


The  Art  of  Living 


might  fairly  have  taken  him  for  another  china 
frog  of  extraordinary  proportions.  All  this  in  a 
comparatively  small  room  where  there  were  sev 
eral  other  knick-knacks  which  I  have  omitted  to 
mention.  Better  this,  perhaps,  than  the  drawing- 
room  of  forty  years  ago,  when  the  visitor's  gaze 
was  bounded  by  cold  green  rep, 
and  he  was  restrained  only  by 
decorum  from  hurling  into  the 
fire  the  tidy  or  an 
timacassar  which 
tickled  his  neck, 
or  detached  itself 
and  wriggled  down 
between  his  back 
and  the  back  of  the 
chair. 

But  Mrs.  Caesar's 
drawing-room,  in 
her  new  house  on 
Belport  Avenue, 
has  been  furnished  from  a  very  different  point  of 
view  than  her  first  one,  which  shows  how  rap 
idly  tastes  change  in  a  progressive  society.  Mrs. 
Cassar  and  Julius  chose  everything  themselves 
this  time  as  they  did  before,  but  they  had  learned 
from  experience,  and  from  the  new  work  of  the 
contemporary  decorator.  There  is  plenty  of  un 
occupied  space  now  to  show  her  possessions  to 

88 


Julius  Caesar  himself  was  sunk  in  the  depths  of 
one   of  the   chairs. 


House -Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


advantage,  and  there  are  not  too  many  posses 
sions  visible  for  the  size  of  the  parlor;  there  is 
neither  so  much  uniformity  of  color  and  design 
as  to  weary  the  eye,  nor  so  much  variety  or 
eccentricity  as  to  irritate  it ;  consequently,  the 
effect  on  the  visitor  is  not  that  he  is  in  a  room  in 
tended  for  luxurious  display,  but  in  an  exquisitely 
furnished  room  adapted  for  daily  use.  In  other 
words,  the  controlling  idea  at  present,  of  those 
who  seek  to  make  their  houses  charming,  seems 
to  be  to  combine  comfort  with  elegance  so  skil 
fully  that  while  one  may  realize  the  latter,  one  is 
conscious  only  of  the  former.  Though  decorators 
are  still  experimenting,  as  probably  they  always 
will  be,  to  attain  novel  effects,  they  are  disposed 
to  make  use  of  queer  or  attenuated  hues,  Moorish 
blazonry,  stamped  leather,  peacock  feathers,  ele 
phant  tusks,  stained-glass  windows,  and  Japanese 
lacquer-work  with  much  more  discretion  than  a 
few  years  ago.  Virgin  -  white  instead  of  dirt- 
brown  lights  up  our  halls  and  stair-cases,  and  the 
vast  chandeliers  which  used  to  dazzle  the  eye  no 
longer  dangle  from  the  ceiling.  Indeed,  it  seems 
as  though  it  would  be  difficult  to  make  the  interior 
of  the  homes  of  our  well-to-do  class  more  comfort 
able  and  attractive  than  they  are  at  present.  It 
may  be  that  some  of  our  very  rich  people  are  dis 
posed  to  waste  their  energies  in  devising  and 
striving  for  more  consummate  elegance,  thereby 


The  Art  of  Living- 


exposing  us  all  to  the  charge  that  we  are  be 
coming  too  luxurious  for  our  spiritual  good.  But 
there  can  be  little  question  that  the  ambition 
to  surround  one's  self  with  as  much  beauty,  con 
sistent  with  comfort,  as  one  can  afford  is  desira 
ble,  even  from  the  ethical  stand-point. 

Undeniably  our  point  of  view  has  changed  ex 
traordinarily  in  the  last  thirty  years  in  regard  to 
house-furnishing,  as  in  regard  to  so  many  other 
matters  of  our  material  welfare,  and  there  cer 
tainly  is  some  ground  for  fearing  that  the  pendu 
lum  is  swinging  just  at  present  too  far  in  the  di 
rection  opposite  to  that  of  high  thinking  and  low 
living ;  but,  after  all,  though  the  reaction  from 
ugliness  has  been  and  continues  to  be  exuberant, 
it  is  as  yet  by  no  means  wide-embracing.  In  fact, 
our  cultivated  well-to-do  class — though  it  is  well 
abreast  of  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world  in  aspira 
tion  and  not  far  behind  it  in  accomplishment,  with 
certain  vivifying  traits  of  its  own  which  the  old 
world  societies  do  not  possess  or  have  lost — is  still 
comparatively  small ;  and  there  is  still  so  much 
Stygian  darkness  outside  it  in  respect  to  house- 
furnishing  and  home  comfort  in  general,  that  we 
can  afford  to  have  the  exuberance  continue  for  the 
present;  for  there  is  some  reason  to  believe  that 
most  of  the  descendants  of  our  old  high  thinkers 
have  become  high  livers,  or  at  least,  if  low  livers, 
have  ceased  to  be  high  thinkers.  Mutton-soup 

90 


House-Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


for  breakfast  and  unattractive  domestic  surround 
ing  seem  to  comport  nowadays  with  ignoble  aims, 
if  nothing  worse ;  moreover,  it  must  not  be  for 
gotten  that  the  plain  people  of  the  present  is  no 
longer  the  plain  people  of  forty  years  ago,  but  is 
largely  the  seed  of  the  influx  of  foreign  peasants, 
chiefly  inferior  and  often  scum,  which  the  sacred- 
ness  of  our  institutions  has  obliged  us  to  receive. 


II 

IF  we  have  become  cosmopolitan  in  the  matter 
of  domestic  comfort  and  elegance  as  regards 
our  drawing-rooms,  the  same  is  certainly  true  of 
our  dining-rooms,  and  dinner- tables.  But  here 
it  seems  to  me  that  we  are  more  justly  open 
to  criticism  on  the  score  of  over -exuberance. 
That  is,  the  fairly  well-to-do  class,  for  the  plain 
people  of  foreign  blood,  and  the  low  liver  of 
native  blood,  eat  almost  as  indigestible  food, 
and  quite  as  rapidly  and  unceremoniously,  as 
the  pie  and  doughnut  nurtured  yeoman  of  orig 
inal  Yankee  stock,  who  thrived  in  spite  of  his 
diet,  and  left  to  his  grandchildren  the  heritage  of 
dyspepsia  which  has  become  nervous  prostration 
in  the  present  generation.  It  seems  as  though 
our  instincts  of  hospitality  have  grown  in  direct 
ratio  with  our  familiarity  with  and  adoption  of  civ- 


The  Art  of  Living 


ilized  creature  comforts,  and  any  charge  of  exu 
berance  may  doubtless  be  fairly  ascribed  to  the 
national  trait  of  generosity,  the  abuse  of  which 
is  after  all  a  noble  blemish.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  facts  remain,  even  after  one  has  given  a 
pleasing  excuse  for  their  existence,  and  it  may  be 
doubted  if  a  spendthrift  is  long  consoled  by  the 
reflection  that  his  impecuniosity  is  due  to  his  own 
disinclination  to  stint.  May 
it  not  truthfully  be  charged 
against  the  reasonably  well-to- 
do  American  citizen  that  he 
has  a  prejudice  against  thrift, 
especially  where  the  entertain 
ment  of  his  fellow  man  or  wom 
an  is  concerned  ?  The  rapid 
growth  of  wealth  and  the  com 
parative  facility  of  becoming 
rich  during  the  last  half  cen 
tury  of  our  development,  has 
operated  against  the  practice 
of  small  economies,  so  that  we 
find  ourselves  now  beset  by  ex 
travagant  traditions  which  we 
hesitate  to  deviate  from  for 
fear  of  seeming  mean.  Many 
a  man  to-day  pays  his  quarter 
of  a  dollar  ruefully  and  begrudgingly  to  the  col 
ored  Pullman  car  porter  at  the  end  of  his  journey, 

92 


Many  a  man  to-day  pays  his 
quarter  of  a  dollar  ruefully. 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


when  he  is  "  brushed  off,"  because  he  cannot  bring 
himself  to  break  the  custom  which  fixed  the  fee. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  estimate  what  the  grand 
total  of  saving  to  the  American  travelling  public 
would  have  been  if  ten  instead  of  twenty-five  cents 
a  head  had  been  paid  to  the  tyrant  in  question  since 
he  first  darkened  the  situation.  If  not  enough 
to  maintain  free  schools  for  the  negro,  at  least 
sufficient  to  compel  railroad  managements  to  give 
their  employees  suitable  wages  instead  of  letting 
the  easy-going  traveller,  who  has  already  paid  for 
the  privilege  of  a  reserved  seat,  pay  a  premium 
on  that.  The  exorbitant  fees  bestowed  on  waiters 
is  but  another  instance  of  a  tendency  to  be  over- 
generous,  which,  once  reduced  to  custom,  be 
comes  the  severest  kind  of  tax,  in  that  it  is  likely 
to  affect  the  warmest-hearted  people. 

This  tendency  to  be  needlessly  lavish  in  expen 
diture  is  most  conspicuous  when  we  are  offering 
hospitality  in  our  own  homes.  Among  the  viands 
which  we  have  added  to  the  bills  of  fare  of 
humanity,  roast  turkey  and  cranberry-sauce,  Ind 
ian  meal,  and  probably  baked  beans,  are  entitled 
to  conspicuous  and  honorable  mention,  but  is  it 
not  true,  notwithstanding  champagne  is  a  foreign 
wine,  that  the  most  prodigious  discovery  in  the 
line  of  food  or  drink  yet  made  by  the  well-to-do 
people  of  this  country,  is  the  discovery  of  cham 
pagne  ?  Does  it  not  flow  in  one  golden  efferves- 

93 


The  Art  of  Living 


cing  stream,  varied  only  by  the  pops  caused  by  the 
drawing  of  fresh  corks,  from  the  Statue  of  Liberty 
Enlightening  the  World  to  the  Golden  Gate  ? 
And  the  circumstance  that  every  pop  costs  the 
entertainer  between  three  and  four  dollars,  seems 
in  nowise  to  interrupt  the  cheery  explosions. 
There  are  some  people  who  do  not  drink  cham 
pagne  or  any  other  wine,  from  principle,  and 
there  are  some  with  whom  it  does  not  agree,  but 
the  average  individual  finds  that  the  interest  of 
festive  occasions  is  heightened  by  its  presence  in 
reasonable  abundance,  and  is  apt  to  deplore  its 
total  absence  with  internal  groans.  But  surely 
ninety-nine  men  in  our  large  cities  out  of  one 
hundred,  who  are  accustomed  to  entertain  and  be 
entertained,  must  be  weary  of  the  sight  of  this  ex 
pensive  tempter  at  the  feast,  which  it  is  so  diffi 
cult  to  refuse  when  set  before  one,  and  which  is 
so  often  quaffed  against  better  judgment  or  in 
clination.  The  champagne  breakfast,  the  cham 
pagne  luncheon,  the  champagne  dinner,  and  the 
champagne  supper,  with  a  champagne  cocktail 
tossed  in  as  a  stop-gap,  hound  the  social  favorite 
from  January  to  December,  until  he  is  fain  to 
dream  of  the  Old  Oaken  Bucket,  and  sooner  or 
later  to  drink  Lithia  water  only. 

With  perpetual  and  unremitting  champagne  as 
the  key-note  of  social  gatherings,  no  wonder  that 
the  table  ornaments  and  the  comestibles  become 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


more  splendid.  A  little  dinner  of  eight  or  ten  is 
no  longer  a  simple  matter  of  a  cordial  invitation 
and  an  extra  course.  The  hostess  who  bids  her 
contemporaries  to  dine  with  her  most  informally 
ten  days  hence,  uses  a  figure  of  speech  which  is 
innocuous  from  the  fact  that  it  is  known  to  be  a 
deliberate  falsehood.  She  begins  generally  by 
engaging  a  cook  from  outside  to  prepare  the  din 
ner,  which  must  surely  wound  the  sensibilities 
of  any  self-respecting  couple  the  first  time,  how 
ever  hardened  to  the  situation  they  may  become 
later. 

At  this  stage  of  my  reflections  I  am  interrupted 
by  my  wife,  Barbara — for  I  was  thinking  aloud — 
with  a  few  words  of  expostulation. 

"  Are  you  not  a  little  severe  ?  I  assume  that 
you  are  referring  now  to  people  with  a  comfort 
able  income,  but  who  are  not  disgustingly  rich. 
Of  course,  nowadays,  the  very  rich  people  keep 
cooks  who  can  cook  for  a  dinner-party,  cooks  at 
eight  dollars  or  more  a  week  and  a  kitchen  maid  ;  so 
it  is  only  the  hostess  with  a  cook  at  four  and  a  half 
to  six  dollars  a  week  and  no  kitchen  maid  who  is 
likely  to  engage  an  accommodator.  But  what  is 
the  poor  thing  to  do  ?  Give  a  wretched,  or  plain 
dinner  which  may  make  her  hair  grow  white  in  a 
single  night  ?  Surely,  when  a  woman  invites 
friends  to  her  house  she  does  not  wish  them  to  go 
away  half  starved,  or  remembering  that  they  have 

95 


The  Art  of  Living 


had  disagreeable  things  to  eat.  In  that  case  she 
would  prefer  not  to  entertain  at  all." 

"  The  question  is,"  I  answered,  "  whether  it  is 
more  sensible  to  try  to  be  content  with  what  one 
has,  or  to  vie  with  those  who  are  better  off.  We 
do  not  attempt  to  dine  on  gold  plate,  nor  have 
we  a  piano  decorated  with  a  rive-thousand-dollar 
painting  by  one  of  the  great  artists,  like  Patter 
son,  the  banker.  Why  should  we  endeavor  to 
compete  with  his  kitchen?" 

"  The  clever  thing,  of  course,  is  to  find  a  cook 
for  six  dollars  a  week  who  can  cook  for  a  dinner 
party,"  answered  Barbara,  pensively  ;  "  and  yet," 
she  added,  "  though  our  cook  can,  the  chances  are 
that  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  people  who  dine  with 
us  think  that  we  hired  her  for  the  occasion." 

"  Precisely.  Just  because  the  custom  has  grown 
so.  It  is  sheer  extravagance." 

"  After  all,  my  dear,  it  is  a  comparatively  small 
matter — a  five-dollar  bill." 

"  Pardon  me.  Five  dollars  for  the  cook,  be 
cause  one's  own  cook  is  not  good  enough ;  three 
or  five  dollars  for  an  accommodating  maid  or 
waiter,  because  you  cannot  trust  your  chamber 
maid  to  assist  your  waitress ;  eight  dollars  for 
champagne,  and  so  on." 

"  Do  not  say  '  your  ' — mine  can." 

"  Her,  then — the  woman  of  the  day.  I  am  try 
ing  to  show  that  a  small  informal  dinner  is  a 


House- Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


cruelly  expensive  affair  for  the  average  man  with 
a  comfortable  working  income." 

"  I  admit  that  a  dinner  for  eight  or  ten  is  ex 
pensive,"  said  Barbara.  "  It  means  twenty-five 
dollars  at  the  lowest,  even  if  you  have  your  own 
cook.  But  what  is  one  to  do  ?  You  don't  seem 
to  appreciate  that  a  good  plain  cook  cannot 
usually  prepare  dinner-party  dishes,  and  that  a 
plain  dinner  is  now  almost  as  different  from  a 
dinner-party  dinner  as  a  boiled  egg  is  from  ca 
viare." 

"  Precisely.  There  is  the  pity  of  it.  The 
growth  here  of  the  French  restaurant  and  the 
taste  for  rich  and  elaborate  cookery  has  doubtless 
been  a  good  thing  in  its  way,  if  only  that  it  is 
now  possible  to  obtain  a  tolerably  well-cooked 
meal  at  most  of  the  hotels  in  our  large  cities  and 
principal  watering-places ;  but  why  should  people 
of  moderate  means  and  social  instincts  feel  con 
strained  to  offer  a  banquet  on  every  occasion 
when  they  entertain  ?  I  for  one  consider  it  a 
bore  to  have  so  much  provided  when  I  go  out  to 
dinner." 

"  You  must  admit,"  said  Barbara,  "  that  dinners 
are  not  nearly  so  long  as  they  were  a  few  years 
ago.  Now,  by  means  of  the  extra  service  you 
complain  of,  and  by  keeping  the  number  of 
courses  down,  a  dinner  ought  not  to  last  longer 
than  an  hour  and  a  half,  whereas  it  used  to  take 

97 


The  Art  of  Living 


two  hours  and  over.  In  England  they  are  much 
worse  than  here.  You  are  given,  for  instance, 
two  puddings,  one  after  the  other,  and  ices  to 
follow." 

"  I  agree,"  said  I,  "  that  we  have  curtailed  the 
length  so  that  there  is  not  much  to  complain  of 
on  that  score.  I  think,  though,  that  compara 
tively  plain  dishes  well  served  are  quite  as  apt  to 
please  as  the  aspics,  chartreuses,  timbales,  and 
other  impressive  gallicisms  under  which  the  ac 
commodating  party  cook  is  wont  to  cater  to  the 
palates  of  informally  invited  guests.  I  sometimes 
think  that  the  very  few  of  our  great  great-grand 
fathers  who  knew  how  to  live  at  all  must  have 
had  more  appetizing  tables  than  we.  Their 
family  cooks,  from  all  accounts,  knew  how  to 
roast  and  boil  and  bake  and  stew,  culinary  arts 
which  somehow  seem  to  be  little  understood  by 
the  chefs  of  to-day.  Then  again,  the  old-fash 
ioned  Delft-crockery — blue  ships  sailing  on  a  blue 
sea — was  very  attractive.  Our  modern  dinner- 
tables,  when  arrayed  for  a  party,  have  almost  too 
much  fuss  and  feathers.  Women  worry  until 
they  get  cut  glass,  if  it  is  not  given  them  as  a 
wedding  present,  and  several  sets  of  costly  plates 
— Sevres,  Dresden,  or  Crown  Derby — are  apt  to 
seem  indispensable  to  housekeepers  of  compara 
tively  limited  means." 

"Cut  glass  is  lovely,  and  the  same  plates 
98 


House  Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


through  seven  courses  are  rather  trying,"  said 
Barbara,  parenthetically. 

"  Of  course  it  is  lovely,  and  I  am  very  glad  you 
have  some.  But  is  not  the  modern  American 
woman  of  refined  sensibilities  just  a  little  too 
eager  to  crowd  her 
table  with  every  arti 
cle  of  virtu  she  pos 
sesses —  every  orna 
mental  spoon,  dish, 
cup,  and  candlestick 
— until  one  is  unable 
to  see  at  any  one 
spot  more  than  a 
square  inch  of  table 
cloth  ?  In  the  cen 
tre  of  the  table  she 
sets  a  crystal  bowl 
of  flowers,  a  silver 

basket  of  ferns,  or  a  dish  of  fruit.  This  is  flanked 
by  apostle  or  gold-lined  spoons,  silver  dishes  of 
confectionery  of  various  kinds,  silver  candlesticks 
or  candelabra  fitted  with  pink  or  saffron  shades, 
one  or  two  of  which  are  expected  to  catch  fire,  an 
array  of  cut  glass  or  Venetian  glass  at  every  plate, 
and,  like  as  not,  pansies  strewn  all  over  the  table." 

"  The  modern  dinner-table  is  very  pretty,"  re 
sponded  Barbara.  "  I  don't  see  how  it  could  be 
improved  materially." 


'The  modern  dinner-table." 


The  Art  of  Living 


"  I  dare  say,  but  somehow  one  can't  help  think 
ing  at  times  that  the  effort  for  effect  is  too  notice 
able,  and  that  the  real  object  of  sitting  down  to 
dinner  in  company,  agreeable  social  intercourse, 
is  consequently  lost  sight  of.  If  only  the  very 
rich  were  guilty  of  wanton  display,  the  answer 
would  be  that  the  rank  and  file  of  our  well-to-do, 
sensible  people  have  very  simple  entertainments. 
Unfortunately,  while  the  very  rich  are  constantly 
vying  to  outstrip  one  another,  the  dinner-table 
and  the  dinner  of  the  well-to-do  American  are 
each  growing  more  and  more  complex  and  elabo 
rate.  Perhaps  not  more  so  than  abroad  among 
the  nobility  or  people  of  means  ;  but  Certainly 
we  have  been  Europeanized  in  this  respect  to 
such  an  extent  that,  not  only  is  there  practically 
nothing  left  for  us  to  learn  in  the  way  of  being 
luxurious,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  we  are  not 
disposed  to  convince  the  rest  of  the  civilized 
world  that  a  free-born  American,  when  full)7  de 
veloped,  can  be  the  most  luxurious  individual  on 
earth." 

Barbara  looked  a  little  grave  at  this.  "  Every 
thing  used  to  be  so  ugly  and  unattractive  a  little 
while  ago  that  I  suppose  our  heads  have  been 
turned, "she  answered.  "After  this  I  shall  make  a 
rule,  when  we  give  a  dinner-party,  to  keep  one- 
half  of  my  table  ornaments  in  the  safe  as  a  rebuke 
to  my  vanity.  Only  if  T  am  to  show  so  much  of 


House  Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 

the    tablecloth,   I   shall    have  to  buy    some    with 
handsome  patterns.     Don't  you  see?" 

Perhaps  this  suggestion  that  our  heads  have 
been  turned  for  the  time  being  by  our  national 
prosperity,  and  that  they  will  become  straight, 
again  in  due  course  of  time,  is  the  most  sensible 
view  to  take  of  the  situation.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  among  well-to-do  people,  who  would 
object  to  be  classed  in  "  the  smart  set,"  as 
the  reporters  of  social  gossip  odiously  character 
ize  those  prominent  in  fashionable  society  in  our 
large  cities,  the  changes  in  the  last  thirty  years 
connected  with  every-day  living,  as  well  as  with 
entertaining,  have  all  been  in  the  direction  of 
cosmopolitan  usage.  It  is  now  only  a  very  old- 
fashioned  or  a  very  blatant  person  who  objects  to 
the  use  of  evening  dress  at  the  dinner-table,  or 
the  theatre,  as  inconsistent  with  true  patriotism. 
The  dinner -hour  has  steadily  progressed  from 
twelve  o'clock  noon  until  it  has  halted  at  seven 
post  meridian,  as  the  ordinary  hour  for  the  most 
formal  meal  of  the  day,  with  further  postpone 
ment  to  half-past  seven  or  even  eight  among  the 
fashionable  for  the  sake  of  company.  The  fry 
ing-pan  and  the  tea-pot  have  ceased  to  reign 
supreme  as  the  patron  saints  of  female  nutrition, 
and  the  beefsteak,  the  egg,  both  cooked  and  raw, 
milk  and  other  flesh-and-blood-producing  food  are 
abundantly  supplied  to  the  rising  generation  of 


The  Art  of  Living 


both  sexes  by  the  provident  parent  of  to-day. 
The  price  of  beef  in  our  large  cities  has  steadily 
advanced  in  price  until  its  use  as  an  article  of  diet 
is  a  serious  monster  to  encounter  in  the  monthly 
bills,  but  the  husband  and  father  who  is  seeking 
to  live  wisely,  seems  not  to  be  deterred  from  pro 
viding  it  abundantly. 

From  this  it  is  evident  that  if  we  are  unduly 
exuberant  in  the  pursuit  of  creature  comforts,  it 
is  not  solely  in  the  line  of  purely  ornamental  lux 
uries.  If  we  continue  to  try  our  nervous  systems 
by  undue  exertion,  they  are  at  least  better  fitted 
to  stand  the  strain,  by  virtue  of  plenty  of  nutri 
tious  food,  even  though  dinner-parties  tempt  us 
now  and  then  to  over-indulgence,  or  bore  us  by 
their  elaborateness.  Yet  it  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  the  income  of  the  American  husband 
and  father  will  be  able  to  stand  the  steady  drain 
occasioned  by  the  liberal  table  he  provides,  and 
it  may  be  that  we  have  some  lessons  in  thrift  on 
this  score  still  in  store  for  us.  There  is  this  con 
solation,  that  if  our  heads  have  been  turned  in  this 
respect  also,  and  we  are  supplying  more  food  for 
our  human  furnaces  than  they  need,  the  force  of 
any  reaction  will  not  fall  on  us,  but  on  the  mar 
ket-men,  who  are  such  a  privileged  class  that  our 
candidates  for  public  office  commonly  provide  a 
rally  for  their  special  edification  just  before  elec 
tion-day,  and  whose  white  smock-frocks  are  com- 

104 


House  Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


monly  a  cloak  for  fat  though  greasy  purses.  Yet 
Providence  seems  to  smile  on  the  market-man  in 
that  it  has  given  him  the  telephone,  through 
which  the  modern  mistress  can  order  her  dinner, 
or  command  chops  or  birds,  when  unexpected 
guests  are  foreshadowed.  Owing  to  the  multi 
plicity  of  the  demands  upon  the  time  of  both  men 
and  women,  the  custom  of  going  to  market  in 
person  has  largely  fallen  into  decay.  The  butcher 
and  grocer  send  assistants  to  the  house  for  orders, 
and  the  daily  personal  encounter  with  the  smug 
man  in  white,  which  used  to  be  as  inevitable  as 
the  dinner,  has  now  mainly  been  relegated  to  the 
blushing  bride  of  from  one  week  to  two  years' 
standing,  and  the  people  who  pay  cash  for  every 
thing.  Very  likely  we  are  assessed  for  the  privi 
lege  of  not  being  obliged  to  nose  our  turkeys  and 
see  our  chops  weighed  in  advance,  and  it  is  diffi 
cult  to  answer  the  strictures  of  those  who  sigh 
for  what  they  call  the  good  old  times,  when  it 
was  every  man's  duty,  before  he  went  to  his  office, 
to  look  over  his  butcher's  entire  stock  and  select 
the  fattest  and  juciest  edibles  for  the  consump 
tion  of  himself  and  family.  As  for  paying  cash 
for  everything,  my  wife  Barbara  says  that,  unless 
people  are  obliged  to  be  extremely  economical,  no 
woman  in  this  age  of  nervous  prostration  ought 
to  run  the  risk  of  bringing  on  that  dire  malady  by 
any  such  imprudence,  and  that  to  save  five  dol- 

105 


The  Art  of  Living 


lars  a  month  on  a  butcher's  bill,  and  pay  twenty, 
five  to  a  physician  for  ruined  nerves,  is  false  politi 
cal  economy. 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  she  added,  "  that  we 
Americans  live  extravagantly  in  the  matter  of 
daily  food — especially  meat — as  compared  with 
the  general  run  of  people  in  other  countries  ;  but 
far  more  serious  than  our  appetites  and  liberal 
habits,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  horrible  waste  which 
goes  on  in  our  kitchens,  due  to  the  fact  that  our 
cooks  are  totally  ignorant  of  the  art  of  making 
the  most  of  things.  Abroad,  particularly  on  the 
Continent,  they  understand  how  to  utilize  every 
scrap,  so  that  many  a  comfortable  meal  is  pro 
vided  from  what  our  servants  habitually  cast  into 
the  swill-tub.  Here  there  is  perpetual  waste — 
waste — waste,  and  no  one  seems  to  understand 
how  to  prevent  it.  There  you  have  one  never- 
failing  reason  for  the  size  of  our  butchers'  and 
grocers'  bills." 

I  assume  that  my  wife,  who  is  an  intelligent 
person,  must  be  correct  in  this  accusation  of 
general  wastefulness  which  she  makes  against  the 
American  kitchen.  If  so,  here  we  are  confronted 
again  with  the  question  of  domestic  service  from 
another  point  of  view.  How  long  can  we  afford 
to  throw  our  substance  into  the  swill-tub?  If  our 
emigrant  cooks  do  not  understand  the  art  of  utiliz 
ing  scraps  and  remnants,  are  we  to  continue  to 

1 06 


House  Furnishing  and  the  Commissariat 


enrich  our  butchers  without  let  or  hindrance  ?  It 
would  seem  that  if  the  American  housewife  does 
not  take  this  matter  in  hand  promptly,  the  cruel 
laws  of  political  economy  will  soon  convince  her 
by  grisly  experience  that  neither  poetry  nor  phi 
lanthropy  can  flourish  in  a  land  where  there  is 
perpetual  waste  below  stairs. 


107 


EDUCATION 


ON  occasions  of  oratory  in  this  country,  nothing- 
will  arouse  an  audience  more  quickly  than 
an  allusion  to  our  public  school  system,  and  any 
speaker  who  sees  fit  to  apostrophize  it  is  certain 
to  be  fervidly  applauded.  Moreover,  in  private 
conversation,  whether  with  our  countrymen  or 
with  foreigners,  every  citizen  is  prone  to  indulge 
in  the  statement,  commonly  uttered  with  some  de 
gree  of  emotion,  that  our  public  schools  are  the 
great  bulwarks  of  progressive  democracy.  Why, 
then,  is  the  American  parent,  as  soon  as  he  becomes 
well-to-do,  apt  to  send  his  children  elsewhere  ? 

I  was  walking  down  town  with  a  friend  the 
other  day,  and  he  asked  me  casually  where  I  sent 
my  boys  to  school.  When  I  told  him  that  they 
attended  a  public  school  he  said,  promptly,  "  Good 
enough.  I  like  to  see  a  man  do  it.  It's  the  right 
thing."  I  acquiesced  modestly  ;  then,  as  I  knew 
that  he  had  a  boy  of  his  own,  I  asked  him  the 
same  question. 

"  My  son,"  he  replied  slowly,  "  goes  to  Mr. 
Bingham's" — indicating  a  private  school  for  boys 

108 


Education 

in  the  neighborhood.  "  He  is  a  little  delicate — 
that  is,  he  had  measles  last  summer,  and  has  never 
quite  recovered  his' strength.  I  had  almost  made 
up  my  mind  to  send  him  to  a  public  school,  so 
that  he  might  mix  with  all  kinds  of  boys,  but  his 
mother  seemed  to  think  that  the  chances  of  his 
catching  scarlet  fever  or  diphtheria  would  be 
greater,  and  she  has  an  idea  that  he  would  make 
undesirable  acquaintances  and  learn  things  which 
he  shouldn't.  So,  on  the  whole,  we  decided  to 
send  him  to  Bingham's.  But  I  agree  that  you 
are  right." 

There  are  many  men  in  the  community  who, 
like  my  friend,  believe  thoroughly  that  everyone 
would  do  well  to  send  his  boys  to  a  public  school 
— that  is,  everyone  but  themselves.  When  it 
comes  to  the  case  of  their  own  flesh  and  blood 
they  hesitate,  and  in  nine  instances  out  of  ten,  on 
some  plea  or  other,  turn  their  backs  on  the  prin 
ciples  they  profess.  This  is  especially  true  in  our 
cities,  and  it  has  been  more  or  less  true  ever  since 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  ;  and  as  a  proof 
of  the  flourishing  condition  of  the  tendency  at 
present,  it  is  necessary  merely  to  instance  the 
numerous  private  schools  all  over  the  country. 
The  pupils  at  these  private  schools  are  the  chil 
dren  of  our  people  of  means  and  social  promi 
nence,  the  people  who  ought  to  be  the  most  patri 
otic  citizens  of  the  Republic. 


The  Art  of  Living 


I  frankly  state  that  1,  for  one,  would  not  send 
my  boys  to  a  public  school  unless  I  believed  the 
school  to  be  a  good  one.  Whatever  other  mo 
tives  may  influence  parents,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  many  are  finally  deterred  from  sending  their 
boys  to  a  public  school  by  the  conviction  that  the 
education  offered  to  their  sons  in  return  for  taxes 
is  inferior  to  what  can  be  obtained  by  private  con 
tract.  Though  a  father  may  be  desirous  to  have 
his  boys  understand  early  the  theory  of  demo 
cratic  equality,  he  may  well  hesitate  to  let  them 
remain  comparatively  ignorant  in  order  to  im 
press  upon  them  this  doctrine.  In  this  age,  when 
so  much  stress  is  laid  on  the  importance  of  giving 
one's  children  the  best  education  possible,  it  seems 
too  large  a  price  to  pay.  Why,  after  all,  should 
a  citizen  send  his  boys  to  a  school  provided  by 
the  State,  if  better  schools  exist  in  the  neighbor 
hood  which  he  can  afford  to  have  them  attend  ? 

This  conviction  on  the  part  of  parents  is  cer 
tainly  justified  in  many  sections  of  the  country, 
and  when  justifiable,  disarms  the  critic  who  is 
prepared  to  take  a  father  to  task  for  sending  his 
children  to  a  private  school.  Also,  it  is  the  only 
argument  which  the  well-to-do  aristocrat  can  suc 
cessfully  protect  himself  behind.  It  is  a  full  suit 
of  armor  in  itself,  but  it  is  all  he  has.  Every  other 
excuse  which  he  can  give  is  flimsy  as  tissue-paper, 
and  exposes  him  utterly*  Therefore,  if  the  State 


Education 

is  desirous  to  educate  the  sons  of  its  leading  citi 
zens,  it  ought  to  make  sure  that  the  public  schools 
are  second  to  none  in  the  land.  If  it  does  not,  it 


School  boards  and  committees. 


has  only  itself  to  blame  if  they  are  educated  apart 
from  the  sons  of  the  masses  of  the  population. 
Nor  is  it  an  answer  to  quote  the  Fourth  of  July 


The  Art  of  Living 


orator,  that  our  public  schools  are  second  to  none 
in  the  world ;  for  one  has  only  to  investigate  to 
be  convinced  that,  both  as  regards  the  methods 
of  teaching  and  as  regards  ventilation,  many  of 
them  all  over  the  country  are  signally  inferior  to 
the  school  as  it  should  be,  and  the  school,  both 
public  and  private,  as  it  is  in  certain  localities. 
So  long  as  school  boards  and  committees,  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  are  composed  mainly 
of  political  aspirants  without  experience  in  educa 
tional  matters,  and  who  seek  to  serve  as  a  first  or 
second  step  toward  the  White  House,  our  public 
schools  are  likely  to  remain  only  pretty  good.  So 
long  as  people  with  axes  to  grind,  or,  more  plainly 
speaking,  text-books  to  circulate,  are  chosen  to 
office,  our  public  schools  are  not  likely  to  improve. 
So  long — and  here  is  the  most  serious  factor  of  all 
—so  long  as  the  well-to-do  American  father  and 
mother  continue  to  be  sublimely  indifferent  to  the 
condition  of  the  public  schools,  the  public  schools 
will  never  be  so  good  as  they  ought  to  be. 

It  must  certainly  be  a  source  of  constant  dis 
couragement  to  the  earnest-minded  people  in  this 
country,  who  are  interested  in  education,  and  are 
at  the  same  time  believers  in  our  professed  na 
tional  hostility  to  class  distinctions,  that  the  well- 
to-do  American  parent  so  calmly  turns  his  back 
on  the  public  schools,  and  regards  them  very 
much  from  the  lofty  standpoint  from  which  cer- 


Education 


tain  persons  are  wont  to  regard  religion — as  an 
excellent  thing  for  the  masses,  but  superfluous  for 
themselves.  Of  course,  if  we  are  going,  in  this  re 
spect  also,  to  model  ourselves  on  and  imitate  the 
older  civilizations,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
said.  If  the  public  schools  are  to  be 
merely  a  semi-charitable  institution  for 
children  whose  parents  can 
not  afford  to  separate  them 
from  the  common  herd, 
the  discussion 
ceases.  But 
what  becomes, 


then,     of    our 
cherished  and 
Fourth  of  July  sanctified 
theories  of  equality  and 
common    school    educa 
tion?     And  what  do  we 
mean  when  we  prate  of  a  common  humanity,  and 
no  upper  class  ? 

It  is  in  the  city  or  town,  where  the  public 
school  is  equal  or  superior  to  the  private  school, 
that  the  real  test  comes.  Yet  in  these  places  well- 
to-do  parents  seem  almost  as  indifferent  as  when 
they  have  the  righteous  defence  that  their  chil 
dren  would  be  imperfectly  educated,  or  breathe 
foul  air,  were  they  to  be  sent  to  a  public  school. 
They  take  no  interest,  and  they  fairly  bristle  with 


People  with  axes  to  grind. 


113 


The  Art  of  Living 


polite  and  ingenious  excuses  for  evading  compli 
ance  with  the  institutions  of  their  country.  Not 
everybody,  but  probably  three-fifths  of  the  parents 
who  can  afford,  if  necessary,  to  pay  for  private  in 
struction.  And  having  once  made  the  decision 
that,  for  some  reason,  a  public  school  education  is 
not  desirable  for  their  children,  they  feel  absolved 
from  further  responsibility  and  practically  wash 
their  hands  of  the  matter.  It  is  notorious  that  a 
very  large  proportion  of  the  children  of  the  lead 
ing  bankers,  merchants,  professional  men,  and 

other  influential  citizens, 
who  reside  in  the  so-called 
court  end  of  our  large  cities, 
do  not  attend  the  public 
schools,  and  it  is  equally 
notorious  that  the  existence 
of  a  well-conducted  and  sat 
isfactory  school  in  the  dis 
trict  affects  the  attendance 
comparatively  little.  If  on 
ly  this  element  of  the  pop 
ulation,  which  is  now  so 
indifferent,  would  interest 
itself  actively,  what  a  vast 
improvement  could  be  ef 
fected  in  our  public  school  system  !  If  the  par 
ents  in  the  community,  whose  standards  of  life  are 
the  highest,  and  whose  ideas  are  the  most  enlight- 


The  private  school  boy. 


Education 

cned,  would  as  a  class  co-operate  in  the  advance 
ment  of  common  education,  the  charge  that  our 
public  schools  produce  on  the  whole  second-rate 
acquirements,  and  second-rate  morals  and  man 
ners,  would  soon  be  refuted,  and  the  cause  of 
popular  education  would  cease  to  be  handicapped, 
as  it  is  at  present,  by  the  coolness  of  the  well-to- 
do  class.  If  the  public  schools,  in  those  sections 
of  our  cities  where  our  most  intelligent  and  influ 
ential  citizens  have  their  homes,  are  unsatisfac 
tory,  they  could  speedily  be  made  as  good  as  any 
private  school,  were  the  same  interest  manifest 
ed  by  the  tax-payers  as  is  shown  when  an  undesir 
able  pavement  is  laid,  or  a  company  threatens  to 
provide  rapid  transit  before  their  doors.  Unfort 
unately,  that  same  spirit  of  aloofness,  which  has 
in  the  past  operated  largely  to  exclude  this  ele 
ment  in  the  nation  from  participation  in  the  af 
fairs  of  popular  government,  seems  to  be  at  the 
bottom  of  this  matter.  Certainly  much  progress 
has  been  made  in  the  last  twenty  years  in  reme 
dying  the  political  evil,  and  the  public  good  ap 
pears  to  demand  a  change  of  front  from  the  same 
class  of  people  on  the  subject  of  common  educa 
tion,  unless  we  are  prepared  to  advocate  the 
existence  and  growth  of  a  favored,  special  class, 
out  of  touch  with,  and  at  heart  disdainful  of,  the 
average  citizen. 

The  most  serious  enemies  of  the  public  schools 

"5 


The  Art  of  Living 


among  well-to-do  people  appear  to  be  women. 
Many  a  man,  alive  to  the  importance  of  educat 
ing  his  sons  in  conformity  with  the  spirit  of  our 
Constitution,  would  like  to  send  his  boys  to  a 
public  school,  but  is  deterred  by  his  wife.  A 
mother  accustomed  to  the  refinements  of  modern 
civilization  is  apt  to  shrink  from  sending  her 
fleckless  darling  to  consort,  and  possibly  become 
the  boon  companion  or  bosom  friend,  of  a  street 
waif. 

She  urges  the  danger  of  contamination,  both 
physical  and  moral,  and  is  only  too  glad  to  dis 
cover  an  excuse  for  refusing  to  yield.  "  Would 
you  like  to  have  your  precious  boy  sit  side  by 
side  with  a  little  negro  ?  "  I  was  asked  one  day, 
in  horrified  accents,  by  a  well-to-do  American 
mother ;  and  I  have  heard  many  fears  expressed 
by  others  that  their  offspring  would  learn  vice, 
or  contract  disease,  through  daily  association  with 
the  children  of  the  mass.  It  is  not  unjust  to  state 
that  the  average  well-to-do  mother  is  gratified 
when  the  public  school,  to  which  her  sons  would 
otherwise  be  sent,  is  so  unsatisfactory  that  their 
father's  patriotism  is  overborne  by  other  consider 
ations.  All  theories  of  government  or  humanity 
are  lost  sight  of  in  her  desire  to  shelter  her  boys, 
and  the  simplest  way  to  her  seems  to  be  to  set 
them  apart  from  the  rest  of  creation,  instead  of 
taking  pains  to  make  sure  that  they  are  suitably 


116 


Education 


taught  and  protected  side  by  side  with  the  other 
children  of  the  community. 

Excellent  as  many  of  our  private  schools  are,  it 
is  doubtful  if  either  the  morals  are  better,  or  the 
liability  to  disease  is  less,  among  the 
children  who  attend  them  than  at  a 
public  school  of  the  best 
class.  To  begin  with, 
the  private  schools  in 
our  cities  are  eagerly 
patronized  by  that  not 
inconsiderable  class  of 
parents  who  hope 
or  imagine  that 
the  social  posi 
tion  of  their  chil 
dren  is  to  be  es 
tablished  by  asso 
ciation  with  the 
children  of  influ 
ential  people. 
Falsehood,  mean 
ness,  and  unwor 
thy  ambitions  are 
quite  as  danger 
ous  to  character,  when  the  little  man  who  suggests 
them  has  no  patches  on  his  breeches,  as  when  he 
has,  and  unfortunately  there  are  no  outward  signs 
on  the  moral  nature,  like  holes  in  trousers,  to  serve 


The  enemy  of  the  public  school. 


The  Art  of  Living 


as  danger  signals  to  our  darlings.  Then  again,  those 
of  us  who  occupy  comfortable  houses  in  desirable 
localities,  will  generally  find  on  investigation  that 
the  average  of  the  class  of  children  which  attend 
the  public  school  in  such  a  district  is  much  superi 
or  to  what  paternal  or  maternal  fancy  has  painted. 
In  such  a  district  the  children  of  the  ignorant  emi 
grant  class  are  not  to  be  found  in  large  numbers. 
The  pupils  consist  mainly  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  native  American  population,  whose  tendencies 
and  capacities  for  good  have  always  been,  and 
continue  to  be,  the  basis  of  our  strength  as  a  peo 
ple.  There  is  no  need  that  a  mother  with  delicate 
sensibilities  should  send  her  son  into  the  slums  in 
order  to  obtain  for  him  a  common  school  educa 
tion  ;  she  has  merely  to  consent  that  he  take  his 
chances  with  the  rest  of  the  children  of  the  dis 
trict  in  which  he  lives,  and  bend  her  own  energies 
to  make  the  standards  of  that  school  as  high  as 
possible.  In  that  way  she  will  best  help  to  raise 
the  tone  of  the  community  as  a  whole,  and  best 
aid  to  obliterate  those  class  distinctions  which,  in 
spite  of  Fourth  of  July  negations,  are  beginning 
to  expose  us  to  the  charge  of  insincerity. 

When  a  boy  has  reached  the  age  of  eleven  or 
twelve,  another  consideration  presents  itself  which 
is  a  source  of  serious  perplexity  to  parents.  Shall 
he  be  educated  at  home — that  is,  attend  school  in 
his  own  city  or  town — or  be  sent  to  one  of  the 

118 


Education 

boarding-schools  or  academics  which  arc  ready  to 
open  their  doors  to  him  and  fit  him  for  college  ? 
Here  again  we  are  met  by  the  suggestion  that  the 
boarding-school  of  this  type  is  not  a  native  growth, 
but  an  exotic.  England  has  supplied  us  with  a 
precedent.  The  great  boarding-schools,  Rugby, 
Eton,  and  Harrow,  are  the  resort  of  the  gentle 
men  of  England.  Though  termed  public  schools, 
they  are  class  schools,  reserved  and  intended  for 
the  education  of  only  the  highly  respectable.  The 
sons  of  the  butcher,  the  baker,  and  candlestick- 
maker  are  not  formally  barred,  but  they  are  tacitly 
excluded.  The  pupils  are  the  sons  of  the  upper 
and  well-to-do  middle  classes.  A  few  boarding- 
schools  for  boys  have  been  in  existence  here  for 
many  years,  but  in  the  last  twenty  there  has  been 
a  notable  increase  in  their  number  and  importance. 
These,  too,  are  essentially  class  schools,  for  though 
ostensibly  open  to  everybody,  the  charges  for  tu 
ition  and  living  are  beyond  the  means  of  parents 
with  a  small  income.  Most  of  them  are  schools  of 
a  religious  denomination,  though  commonly  a  be 
lief  in  the  creed  for  which  the  institution  stands  is 
not  made  a  formal  requisite  for  admission.  The 
most  successful  profess  the  Episcopalian  faith,  and 
in  other  essential  respects  are  modelled  deliber 
ately  on  the  English  public  schools. 

The  strongest  argument  for  sending  a  boy  to 
one  of  these  schools  is  the  fresh-air  plea.     Unde- 


The  Art  of  Living 


niably,  the  growing  boy  in  a  large  city  is  at  a  dis 
advantage.  He  can  rarely,  if  ever,  obtain  oppor 
tunities  for  healthful  exercise  and  recreation 
equal  to  those  afforded  by  a  well-conducted 
boarding-school.  He  is  likely  to  become  a  little 
man  too  early,  or  else  to  sit  in  the  house  because 
there  is  nowhere  to  play.  At  a  boarding-school 
he  will,  under  firm  but  gentle  discipline,  keep 
regular  hours,  eat  simple  food,  and  between  study 
times  be  stimulated  to  cultivate  athletic  or  other 
outdoor  pursuits.  It  is  not  strange  that  parents 
should  be  attracted  by  the  comparison,  and  decide 
that,  on  the  whole,  their  boys  will  fare  better  away 
from  home.  Obviously  the  aristocratic  mother 
will  point  out  to  her  husband  that  his  predilection 
for  the  public  school  system  is  answered  by  the 
fact  that  the  State  does  not  supply  schools  away 
from  the  city,  where  abundant  fresh  air  and  a 
famous  foot-ball  field  are  appurtenant  to  the  insti 
tution.  Tom  Brown  at  Rugby  recurs  to  them 
both,  and  they  conclude  that  what  has  been  good 
enough  for  generations  of  English  boys  will  be 
best  for  their  own  son  and  heir. 

On  the  other  hand,  have  we  Americans  ever 
quite  reconciled  ourselves  to,  and  sympathized 
with,  the  traditional  attitude  of  English  parents 
toward  their  sons  as  portrayed  in  veracious  fic 
tion  ?  The  day  of  parting  comes ;  the  mother, 
red-eyed  from  secret  weeping,  tries  not  to  break 


Education 

down ;  the  blubbering  sisters  throw  their  arms 
around  the  neck  of  the  hero  of  the  hour,  and  slip 
pen-wipers  of  their  own  precious  making  into  his 
pockets ;  the  father,  abnormally  stern  to  hide  his 
emotion,  says,  bluffly,  "  Good-by,  Tom  ;  it's  time 
to  be  off,  and  we'll  see  you  again  at  Christmas." 


The  day  of  parting. 

And  out  goes  Tom,  a  tender  fledgling,  into  the 
great  world  of  the  public  school,  and  that  is  the 
last  of  home.  His  holidays  arrive,  but  there  is  no 
more  weeping.  He  is  practically  out  of  his  par 
ents'  lives,  and  the  sweet  influence  of  a  good 
mother  is  exercised  only  through  fairly  regular 


The  Art  of  Living 


correspondence.  And  Tom  is  said  to  be  getting 
manly,  and  that  the  nonsense  has  nearly  been 
knocked  out  of  him.  He  has  been  bullied  and  has 
learned  to  bully ;  he  has  been  a  fag  and  is  now  a 
cock.  Perhaps  he  is  first  scholar,  if  not  a  hero  of 
the  cricket  or  foot-ball  field.  Then  off  he  goes  to 
college,  half  a  stranger  to  those  who  love  him 
best. 

This  is  fine  and  manly  perhaps,  in  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  sense,  but  does  it  not  seem  just  a  little 
brutal?  Are  we  well-to-do  Americans  prepared 
to  give  up  to  others,  however  exemplary,  the  con 
duct  of  our  children's  lives?  Granting  that  the 
American  private  boarding-school  is  a  delightful 
institution,  where  bullying  and  fags  and  cocks  are 
not  known,  can  it  ever  take  the  place  of  home,  or 
supply  the  stimulus  to  individual  life  which  is  ex 
ercised  by  wise  parental  love  and  precept?  Of 
course,  it  is  easier,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  send  one's 
boy  to  a  select  boarding-school,  where  the  condi 
tions  are  known  to  be  highly  satisfactory.  It 
shifts  the  responsibility  on  to  other  shoulders, 
and  yet  leaves  one  who  is  not  sensitive,  in  the 
pleasing  frame  of  mind  that  the  very  best  thing 
has  been  done  for  the  young  idea.  In  our  busy 
American  life — more  feverish  than  that  of  our 
English  kinsfolk  whose  institution  we  have  copied 
—many  doubtless  are  induced  to  seek  this  solu 
tion  of  a  perplexing  problem  by  the  consciousness 


Education 

of  their  own  lack  of  efficiency,  and  their  own  lack 
of  leisure  to  provide  a  continuous  home  influence 
superior  or  equal  to  what  can  be  supplied  by  head 
masters  and  their  assistants,  who  are  both  church 
men  and  athletes.  Many,  too,  especially  fathers, 
are  firm  believers  in  that  other  English  doctrine, 
that  most  boys  need  to  have  the  nonsense  knocked 
out  of  them,  and  that  the  best  means  of  accom 
plishing  this  result  is  to  cut  them  loose  from  their 
mothers'  apron-strings. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  in  this  connection  that 
the  great  English  public  schools  are  a  national 
cult.  That  is,  everybody  above  a  certain  class 
sends  his  sons  to  one  of  them.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  private  boarding-schools  on  this  side  of  the 
water,  fashioned  after  them,  have  thus  far  at 
tracted  the  patronage  of  a  very  small  element  of 
the  population.  It  is  their  misfortune,  rather  than 
their  fault,  that  they  are  chiefly  the  resort  of  the 
sons  of  rich  or  fashionable  people,  and  conse 
quently  are  the  most  conspicuously  class  schools 
in  the  country.  Doubtless  the  earnest  men  who 
conduct  most  of  them  regret  that  this  is  so,  but  it 
is  one  of  the  factors  of  the  case  which  the  Ameri 
can  parent  with  sons  must  face  at  present.  It  may 
be  that  this  is  to  be  the  type  of  school  which  is  to 
become  predominant  here,  and  that,  as  in  Eng 
land,  the  nation  will  recognize  it  as  a  national 
force,  even  though  here,  as  there,  only  the  sons  of 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  upper  classes  enjoy  its  advantages.  That  will 
depend  partly  on  the  extent  to  which  we  shall  de 
cide,  as  a  society,  to  promote  further  class  educa- 


Ambitious  students  without  means. 

tion.  At  present  these  schools  are  essentially  pri 
vate  institutions.  They  are  small;  they  do  not, 
like  our  American  colleges,  offer  scholarships, 
and  thus  invite  the  attendance  of  ambitious  stu 
dents  without  means.  Moreover,  they  are  almost 
universally  conducted  on  a  sectarian  basis,  or  with 
a  sectarian  leaning,  which  is  apt  to  proselytize,  at 
least  indirectly. 

While  those  in  charge  of  them  indisputably 
strive  to  inculcate  every  virtue,  the  well-to-do 
American  father  must  remember  that  his  sons  will 
associate  intimately  there  with  many  boys  whose 


Education 

parents  belong  to  that  frivolous  class  which  is  to 
day  chiefly  absorbed  in  beautiful  establishments, 
elaborate  cookery,  and  the  wholly  material  vani 
ties  of  life,  and  are  out  of  sympathy  with,  or  are 
indifferent  to,  the  earnest  temper  and  views  of 
that  already  large  and  intelligent  portion  of  the 
community,  which  views  with  horror  the  devel 
opment  among  us  of  an  aristocracy  of  wealth, 
which  apes  and  is  striving  to  outdo  the  heartless 
inanities  of  the  Old  World.  He  must  remember 
that  a  taste  for  luxury  and  sensuous,  material 
aims,  even  though  they  be  held  in  check  by 
youthful  devotion  to  the  rites  of  the  church,  will 
prove  no  less  disastrous,  in  the  long  run,  to  man 
hood  and  patriotism,  than  the  lack  of  fresh  air  or 
a  famous  foot-ball  field. 

If,  however,  the  American  father  chooses  to 
keep  his  sons  at  home,  he  is  bound  to  do  all  he 
can  to  overcome  the  physical  disadvantages  of 
city  life.  Fresh  air  and  suitable  exercise  can  be 
obtained  in  the  suburbs  of  most  cities  by  a  little 
energy  and  co-operation  on  the  part  of  parents. 
As  an  instance,  in  one  or  two  of  our  leading  cities, 
clubs  of  twelve  to  fifteen  boys  are  sent  out  three 
or  four  afternoons  a  week  under  the  charge  of  an 
older  youth — usually  a  college  or  other  student — 
who,  without  interfering  with  their  liberty,  super 
vises  their  sports,  and  sees  that  they  are  well  oc 
cupied.  On  days  when  the  weather  is  unsuitable 


The  Art  of  Living: 


for  any  kind  of  game,  he  will  take  them  to  muse 
ums,  manufactories,  or  other  places  of  interest  in 
the  vicinity.  In  this  way  some  of  the  watchful 
ness  and  discipline 
which  are  cons 
tantly  operative  at 
a  boarding-school, 
are  exercised  with 
out  injury  to  home 
ties.  There  is  no 
doubt  that,  unless 
parents  are  vigi 
lant  and  interest 
themselves  unre 
mittingly  in  pro 
viding  necessary 
physical  advan 
tages,  the  boys  in  a  crowded  city  are  likely  to 
be  less  healthy  and  vigorous  in  body,  and  per 
haps  in  mind,  than  those  educated  at  a  first-class 
boarding-school.  It  may  be,  as  our  cities  increase 
in  size,  and  suburbs  become  more  difficult  of  ac 
cess,  that  the  boarding-school  will  become  more 
generally  popular ;  but  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that,  before  it  is  recognized  as  a  national  institu 
tion,  sectarian  religion  will  have  ceased  to  control 
it,  and  it  will  be  less  imitative  of  England  in  its 
tone  and  social  attitude.  Until  then,  at  least,  many 
a  parent  will  prefer  to  keep  his  boys  at  home. 


Practical   instruction. 


Education 


II 

"  SUPPOSING  you  had  four  daughters,  like  Mr. 
Perkins,  what  would  you  do  with  them,  educa 
tionally  speaking  ? "  I  said  to  my  wife  Barbara, 
by  way  of  turning  my  attention  to  the  other 
sex. 

"  You  mean  what  would  they  do  with  me  ? 
They  would  drive  me  into  my  grave,  I  think," 
she  answered.  "  Woman's  horizon  has  become 
so  enlarged  that  no  mother  can  tell  what  her 
next  daughter  may  not  wish  to  do.  I  understand, 
though,  that  you  are  referring  simply  to  schools. 
To  begin  with,  I  take  for  granted  you  will  agree 
that  American  parents,  who  insist  on  sending 
their  boys  to  a  public  school,  very  often  hesitate 
or  decline  point-blank  to  send  their  girls." 

"  Precisely.  And  we  are  forthwith  confronted 
by  the  question  whether  they  are  justified  in  so 
doing." 

Barbara  looked  meditative  for  a  moment,  then 
she  said  :  "  I  am  quite  aware  there  is  no  logical 
reason  why  girls  should  not  be  treated  in  the  same 
way,  and  yet  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  am  not  at  all 
sure,  patriotism  and  logic  to  the  contrary  not 
withstanding,  I  should  send  a  daughter  to  a  public 
school  unless  I  were  convinced,  from  personal  ex 
amination,  that  she  would  have  neither  a  vulgar 


The  Art  of  Living 


teacher  nor  vulgar  associates.  Manners  mean 
so  much  to  a  woman,  and  by  manners  I  refer 
chiefly  to  those  nice  perceptions  of  everything 
which  stamp  a  lady,  and  which  you  can  no  more 
describe  than  you  can  describe  the  perfume  of 


Mr.  Perkins  and  his  four  daughters. 

the  violet.  The  objection  to  the  public  schools 
for  a  girl  is  that  the  unwritten  constitution  of  this 
country  declared  years  ago  that  every  woman  was 
a  born  lady,  and  that  manners  and  nice  percep 
tions  were  in  the  national  blood,  and  required  no 


Education 

cultivation  for  their  production.  Latterly,  a  good 
many  people  interested  in  educational  matters 
have  discovered  the  fallacy  of  this  point  of  view  ; 
so  that  when  the  name  of  a  woman  to  act  as  the 
head  of  a  college  or  other  first-class  institution 
for  girls  is  brought  forward  to-day,  the  first  ques 
tion  asked  is,  '  Is  she  a  lady  ? '  Ten  years  ago 
mental  acquirements  would  have  been  regarded 
as  sufficient,  and  the  questioner  silenced  with  the 
severe  answer  that  every  American  woman  is  a 
lady.  The  public  school  authorities  are  still 
harping  too  much  on  the  original  fallacy,  or 
rather  the  new  point  of  view  has  not  spread  suf 
ficiently  to  cause  the  average  American  school 
teacher  to  suspect  that  her  manners  might  be  im 
proved  and  her  sensibilities  refined.  There,  that 
sounds  like  treason  to  the  principles  of  democ 
racy,  yet  you  know  I  am  at  heart  a  patriot." 

"  And  yet  to  bring  up  boys  on  a  common  basis 
and  separate  the  girls  by  class  education  seems  like 
a  contradiction  of  terms,"  I  said. 

"I  am  confident  —  at  least  if  we  as  a  nation 
really  do  believe  in  obliterating  class  distinctions 
— that  it  won't  be  long  before  those  who  control 
the  public  schools  recognize  more  universally  the 
value  of  manners,  and  of  the  other  traits  which 
distinguish  the  woman  of  breeding  from  the 
woman  who  has  none,"  said  Barbara.  "  When 
that  time  comes  the  well-to-do  American  mother 


The  Art  of  Living 


will  have  no  more  reason  for  not  sending  her 
daughters  to  a  public  school  than  her  sons.  As  it 
is,  they  should  send  them  oftener  than  they  do." 

"  Of  course,"  continued  Barbara,  presently, 
"  the  best  private  schools  are  in  the  East,  and  a 
very  much  larger  percentage,  both  of  girls  and 
boys,  attends  the  public  schools  in  the  West  than 
in  the  East.  Indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
comparatively  few  people  west  of  Chicago  do  not 
send  their  children  to  public  schools.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  are  boarding-schools  for  girls  all 
over  the  East  which  are  mainly  supported  by 
girls  from  the  West,  whose  mothers  wish  to  have 
them  finished.  They  go  to  the  public  schools  at 
home  until  they  are  thirteen  or  fourteen,  and  then 
are  packed  off  to  school  for  three  or  four  years  in 
order  to  teach  them  how  to  move,  and  wear  their 
hair,  and  spell,  and  control  their  voices — for  the 
proper  modulation  of  the  voice  has  at  last  been  rec 
ognized  as  a  necessary  attribute  of  the  well-bred 
American  woman.  As  for  the  Eastern  girl  who  is 
not  sent  to  the  public  school,  she  usually  attends 
a  private  day-school  in  her  native  city,  the  re 
sources  of  which  are  supplemented  by  special  in 
struction  of  various  kinds,  in  order  to  produce 
the  same  finished  specimen.  But  it  isn't  the  fin 
ished  specimen  who  is  really  interesting  from  the 
educational  point  of  view  to-day ;  that  is,  the  con 
ventional,  cosmopolitan,  finished  specimen  such 


Education 


as  is  turned  out  with  deportment  and  accomplish 
ments  from  the  hands  of  the  English  governess, 
the  French  Mother  Superior,  or  the  American 
private  school-mistress. 

"  After  making  due  allowance  for  the  national 
point  of  view,  I  don't  see 
very  much  difference  in 
principle  between  the  means 
adopted  to  finish  the  young 
lady  of  society  here  and 
elsewhere.  There  are  thou 
sands  of  daughters  of  well- 
to-do  mothers  in  this  coun 
try  who  are  brought  up  on 
the  old  aristocratic  theory 
that  a  woman  should  study 
moderately  hard  until  she 
is  eighteen,  then  look  as 
pretty  as  she  can,  and  de 
vote  herself  until  she  is 
married  to  having  what  is 
called  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic  a  good  time.  To  be 

sure,  in  France  the  good  time  does  not  come  until 
after  marriage,  and  there  are  other  differences,  but 
the  well-bred  lady  of  social  graces  is  the  well-bred 
lady,  whether  it  be  in  London,  Paris,  Vienna, 
or  New  York,  and  a  ball-room  in  one  capital 
is  essentially  the  same  as  in  all  the  others,  unless 


'The  American  school-mistress." 


The  Art  of  Living 

it  be  that  over  here  the  very  young  people  are 
allowed  to  crowd  out  everybody  else.  There 
are  thousands  of  mothers  who  are  content  that 
this  should  be  the  limit  of  their  daughters'  expe- 


"  Four  years  of  whirl  and  then  a  husband." 

rience,  a  reasonably  good  education  and  perfect 
manners,  four  years  of  whirl,  and  then  a  husband, 
or  no  husband  and  a  conservative  afternoon  tea- 
drinking  spinsterhood — and  they  are  thankful  on 
the  whole  when  their  girls  put  their  necks  meekly 


Education 


For  the  reign  of  the  unconventional 


beneath  the  yoke  of  convention  and  do  as  past 
generations  of  women  all  over  the  civilized  world 
have  done. 

society  young  woman  is   over.     She 
shocks    now    her   own    countrywom 
en   even  more   than   foreigners ;    and 
though,  like   the    buffalo,  she   is  still 
extant,    she    is     disappearing 
even  more  rapidly  than  that 
illustrious  quadruped." 

"  Are    you    not    wandering 
slightly     from     the 
topic  ?  "  I  ventured 
to  inquire. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said 
Barbara.  "  I  was 
stating  merely  that 
the  Old-World, 
New- World  young 
lady,  with  all  her 
originality  and  pi 
quancy,  however 
charming,  and  how 
ever  delightfully  inevitable  she  may  be,  is  not 
interesting  from  the  educational  point  of  view. 
Or  rather  I  will  put  it  in  this  way  :  the  thought 
ful,  well-to-do  American  mother  is  wondering  hard 
whether  she  has  a  right  to  be  content  with  the  an 
cient  programme  for  her  daughters,  and  is  watch- 


'The  decayed  gentlewoman  of  the  day." 


The  Art  of  Living- 


ing  with  eager  interest  the  experiments  which 
some  of  her  neighbors  are  trying  with  theirs.  We 
cannot  claim  as  an  exclusive  national  invention 
collegiate  education  for  women,  and  there's  no 
doubt  that  my  sex  in  England  is  no  less  com 
pletely  on  the  war-path  than  the  female  world 
here ;  but  is  there  a  question  that  the  peculiar 
qualities  of  American  womanhood  are  largely 
responsible  for  the  awakening  wherever  it  has 
taken  place?  My  dear,  you  asked  me  just  now 
what  a  man  like  Mr.  Perkins  should  do  with 
his  four  daughters.  Probably  Mrs.  Perkins  is  try 
ing  to  make  up  her  mind  whether  she  ought  to 
send  them  to  college.  Very  likely  she  is  argu 
ing  with  Mr.  Perkins  as  to  whether,  all  things 
considered,  it  wouldn't  be  advisable  to  have  one 
or  two  of  them  study  a  profession,  or  learn  to 
do  something  bread-winning,  so  that  in  case  he, 
poor  man — for  he  does  look  overworked — should 
not  succeed  in  leaving  them  the  five  thousand  dol 
lars  a  year  he  hopes,  they  need  not  swell  the  cate 
gory  of  the  decayed  gentlewoman  of  the  day.  I 
dare  say  they  discuss  the  subject  assiduously,  in 
spite  of  the  views  Mr.  Perkins  has  expressed  to  you 
regarding  the  sacredness  of  unemployed  feminine 
gentility  ;  for  it  costs  so  much  to  live  that  he  can't 
lay  up  a  great  deal,  and  there  are  certainly  strong 
arguments  in  favor  of  giving  such  girls  the  oppor 
tunity  to  make  the  most  of  themselves,  or  at  least 


Education 

to  look  at  life  from  the  self-supporting  point  of 
view.  At  first,  of  course,  the  students  at  the  col 
leges  for  women  were  chiefly  girls  who  hoped  to 
utilize,  as  workers  in  various  lines,  the  higher 
knowledge  they  acquired  there  ;  but  every  year 
sees  more  and  more  girls,  who  expect  to  be  mar 
ried  sooner  or  later — the  -daughters  of  lawyers, 
physicians,  merchants — apply  for  admission,  on 
the  theory  that  what  is  requisite  for  a  man  is  none 
too  good  for  them  ;  and  , 

it  is  the  example  of  these 
girls  which  is  agitating 
the  serenity  of  so  many 
mothers,  and  suggesting 
to  so  many  daughters  =- 
the  idea  of  doing  like 
wise.  Even  the  ranks  of 
the  most  fashionable  are 
being  invaded,  though 
undeniably  it  is  still  the 
fashion  to  stay  at  home, 
and  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  it  is  only  the 

lack  Of  the  Seal  Of  fashion          "Equip  themselves  thoroughly  in  some 

direction  or  other.  ' 

that  restrains  many  con 
servative  people,  like   the    Perkinses,  from   edu 
cating  their  daughters  as  though  they  probably 
would  not  be  married,  instead  of  as  though  they 
were  almost  certain  to  be." 


The  Art  of  Living 


"  You  may  remember  that  Perkins  assured  me 
not  long  ago,  that  marriage  did  not  run  in  the 
Perkins  female  line,"  said  I. 

"All    the    more   reason,    then,   that    his    s~irls 

o 

should  be  encouraged 
to  equip  themselves 
thoroughly  in  some 
direction  or  other,  in 
stead  of  waiting  dis 
consolately  to  be  cho 
sen  in  marriage,  keep 
ing  up  their  courage 
as  the  years  slip  awayr 
with  a  few  cold  drops 
of  Associated  Charity. 
Of  course  the  major 
ity  of  us  will  continue 
to  be  wives  and  moth 
ers — there  is  nothing 
equal  to  that  when  it 
is  a  success — but  will  not  marriage  become  still 
more  desirable  if  the  choicest  girls  are  educated  to 
be  the  intellectual  companions  of  men,  and  taught 
to  familiarize  themselves  with  the  real  conditions 
of  life,  instead  of  being  limited  to  the  rose  gar 
den  6f  a  harem,  over  the  hedges  of  which  they 
are  expected  only  to  peep  at  the  busy  xvorld — 
the  world  of  men,  the  world  of  action  and  toil 
and  struggle  and  sin — the  world  into  which  their 

136 


The  intellectual   companion  of  men. 


Education 


sons  are  graduated  when  cut  loose  from  the  ma 
ternal  apron-strings  ?  We  intend  to  learn  what  to 
teach  our  sons,  so  that  we  may  no  longer  be  si 
lenced  with  the  plea  that  women  do  not  know, 
and  be  put  off  with  a  secretive  conjugal  smile. 
And  as  for  the  girls  who  do  not  marry,  the  world 
is  open  to  them — the  world  of  art  and  song  and 
charity  and  healing  and  brave  endeavor  in  a  hun 
dred  fields.  Become  just  like  men?  Never.  If 
there  is  one  thing  which  the  educated  woman  of 
the  present  is  seeking  to  preserve  and  foster,  it  is 
the  subtle  delicacy  of  nature,  it  is  the  engaging 
charm  of  womanhood 
which  distinguishes  us 
from  men.  Who  are  the 
pupils  at  the  colleges  for 
women  to-day  ?  The  dow 
dy,  sexless,  unattractive, 
masculine-minded  beings 
who  have  served  to  typ 
ify  for  nine  men  out  of 
ten  the  crowning  joke  of 
the  age  —  the  emancipa 
tion  of  women  ?  No  ; 
but  lovely,  graceful,  sym 
pathetic,  earnest,  pure- 
minded  girls  in  the  flower  of  attractive  maid 
enhood.  And  that  is  why  the  well-to-do  Amer 
ican  mother  is  asking  herself  whether  she  would 


"The  secretive   conjugal  smile." 


The  Art  of  Living 


be  doing  the  best  thing  for  her  daughter  if  she 
were  to  encourage  her  to  become  merely  a  New- 
World  Old-World  young  lady  of  the  ancient 
order  of  things.  For  centuries  the  women  of  ci 
vilization  have  worshipped  chastity,  suffering 

resignation  and  elegance 
as  the  ideals  of  femininity  ; 
now  we  mean  to  be  intelli 
gent  besides,  or  at  least  as 
nearly  so  as  possible." 

"  In    truth    a    philippic, 
Barbara,"  I  said.  "It  would 
seem  as  though  Mrs.  Grun- 
dy  would  not  be  able 
to    hold    out    much 
longer.    Will  you  tell 
me,  by  the  way,  what 
you  women  intend  to 
do    after    you    are    fully 
emancipated  ?  " 

"  One  thing  at  a  time," 
she  answered.  "  We  have 
been  talking  of  education, 
and  1  have  simply  been  suggesting  that  no  consci 
entious  mother  can  afford  to  ignore  or  pass  by 
with  scorn  the  claims  of  higher  education  for  girls 
— experimental  and  faulty  as  many  of  the  present 
methods  to  attain  it  doubtless  are.  As  to  what 
women  are  going  to  do  when  our  preliminary 

138 


"  The   dowdy   masculine-minded 
being." 


Education 

perplexities  are  solved  and  our  sails  are  set  before 
a  favorable  wind,  I  have  my  ideas  on  that  score 
also,  and  some  day  I  will  discuss  them  with  you. 
But  just  now  I  should  like  you  to  answer  me  a 
question.  What  are  the  best  occupations  for  sons 
to  follow  when  they  have  left  school  or  college?" 
Pertinent  and  interesting  as  was  this  inquiry  of 
Barbara's,  I  felt  the  necessity  of  drawing  a  long 
breath  before  I  answered  it. 


OCCUPATION 


THE  American  young  man,  in  the  selection  of  a 
vocation,  is  practically  cut  off  from  two  call 
ings  which  are  dear  to  his  contemporaries  in  other 
civilized  countries — the  Army  and  the  Navy.  The 
possibility  of  war,  with  all  its  horrors  and  its  op 
portunities  for  personal  renown,  is  always  loom 
ing  up  before  the  English,  French,  German,  or 
Russian  youth,  who  is  well  content  to  live  a  life 
of  gilded  martial  inactivity  in  the  hope  of  sooner 
or  later  winning  the  cross  for  conspicuous  service, 
if  he  escapes  a  soldier's  grave.  We  have  endured 
one  war,  and  we  profoundly  hope  never  to  under 
go  another.  Those  of  us  who  are  ethically  op 
posed  to  the  slaughter  of  thousands  of  human 
beings  in  a  single  clay  by  cannon,  feel  that  we  have 
geography  on  our  side.  Even  the  bloodthirsty 
are  forced  to  acknowledge  that  the  prospects  here 
for  a  genuine  contest  of  any  kind  are  not  favor 
able.  Consequently,  the  ardor  of  the  son  and 
heir,  who  would  like  to  be  a  great  soldier  or  a  sea 
captain,  is  very  apt  to  be  cooled  by  the  representa 
tion  that  his  days  would  be  spent  in  watching  In- 

140 


Occupation 

dians  or  cattle  thieves  on  the  Western  plains,  or 
in  cruising  uneventfully  in  the  Mediterranean  or 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  At  all  events  our  standing, 
or,  more  accurately  speaking,  sitting  Army,  and 


The  selection  of  a  vocation. 


our  Navy  are  so  small,  that  the  demand  for  gen 
erals  and  captains  is  very  limited.  Therefore, 
though  we  commend  to  our  sons  the  prowess  of 
Caesar,  Napoleon,  Nelson,  Von  Moltke,  and  Grant, 


The  Art  of  Living 


The  prospects  here  for  a  genuine  contest  of  any  kind  are   not  favorable. 

we  are  able  to  demonstrate  to  them,  even  without 
recourse  to  modern  ethical  arguments,  that  the 
opportunities  for  distinction  on  this  side  of  the 
water  are  likely  to  be  very  meagre. 


Occupation 


Also,  we  Americans,  unlike  English  parents, 
hesitate  to  hold  out  as  offerings  to  the  Church  a 
younger  son  in  every  large  family.  We  have  no 
national  Church  ;  moreover,  the  calling  of  a  cler 
gyman  in  this  country  lacks  the  social  picturesque- 


ness  which 
goes    far,    or 
did   go   far,  to 
reconcile     the 
British      younger 
son  to  accept  the  liv 
ing  which  fell  to  his  lot 
through     family     influ 
ence.      Then  again,  would 

Cru,sing  uneventfully  in  the  Mediter-      the   American   mother,  like 

ranean  or  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

the   conventional    mother 

of  the  older  civilizations,  as  represented  in  biog 
raphy  and  fiction,  if  asked  which  of  all  vocations 
she  would  prefer  to  have  her  son  adopt,  reply 
promptly  and  fervidly,  "the  ministry?" 

I  put  this  question  to  my  wife  by  way  of  ob 
taining  an  answer.     She  reflected  a  moment,  then 


The  Art  of  Living 


she  said,  "  If  one  of  my  boys  really  felt  called 
to  be  a  clergyman,  I  should  be  a  very  happy 
woman ;  but  I  wouldn't  on  any  account  have 
one  of  them  enter  the  ministry  unless  he  did." 
This  reply  seems  to  me  to  express  not  mere 
ly  the  attitude  of  the  American  mother,  but 
also  the  point  of  view  from  which  the  American 
young  man  of  to-day  is  apt  to  look  at  the  ques 
tion.  He  no  longer  regards  the  ministry  as  a 
profession  which  he  is  free  to  prefer,  merely  be 
cause  he  needs  to  earn  his  daily  bread  ;  and  he 
understands,  when  he  becomes  a  clergyman,  that 
lukewarm  or  merely  conventional  service  will  be 
utterly  worthless  in  a  community  which  is  thirsty 
for  inspirational  suggestion,  but  which  is  soul-sick 
of  cant  and  the  perfervid  reiteration  of  out-worn 
delusions.  The  consciousness  that  he  has  no 
closer  insight  into  the  mysteries  of  the  universe 
than  his  fellow-men,  and  the  fear  that  he  may  be 
able  to  solace  their  doubts  only  by  skilful  conceal 
ment  of  his  own,  is  tending,  here  and  all  over  the 
civilized  world,  to  deter  many  a  young  man  from 
embracing  that  profession,  which  once  seemed  to 
offer  a  safe  and  legitimate  niche  for  any  pious 
youth  who  was  uncertain  what  he  wished  to  do 
for  a  living.  Happy  he  who  feels  so  closely  in 
touch  with  the  infinite  that  he  is  certain  of  his 
mission  to  his  brother-man  !  But  is  anyone  more 
out  of  place  than  the  priest  who  seems  to  know  no 

M4 


Occupation 

more  than  we  do  of  what  we  desire  to  know  most? 
We  demand  that  a  poet  should  be  heaven-born ; 
why  should  we  not  require  equivalent  evidence  of 
fitness  from  our  spiritual  advisers? 

And  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  convic 
tion  of  fitness  or  mission  exists,  what  calling  is 
there  which  offers  to-day  more  opportunities 
for  usefulness  than  the  ministry  ?  The  growing 
tendency  of  the  Church  is  toward  wider  issues 
and  a  broader  scope.  Clergymen  are  now  en 
couraged  and  expected  to  aid  in  the  solution  of 
problems  of  living  no  less  than  those  of  dying, 
and  to  lead  in  the  discussion  of  matters  regarding 
which  they  could  not  have  ventured  to  express 
opinions  fifty  years  ago  without  exposing  them 
selves  to  the  charge  of  being  meddlesome  or  un- 
clerical.  The  whole  field  of  practical  charity, 
economics,  hygiene,  and  the  relations  of  human 
beings  to  each  other  on  this  earth,  are  fast  be 
coming  the  legitimate  domain  of  the  Church,  and 
the  general  interest  in  this  new  phase  of  useful 
ness  is  serving  to  convince  many  of  the  clergy 
themselves  that  the  existence  of  so  many  creeds, 
differing  but  slightly  and  unimportantly  from  one 
another,  is  a  waste  of  vital  force  and  machinery. 
In  this  age  of  trusts,  a  trust  of  all  religious  de 
nominations  for  the  common  good  of  humanity 
would  be  a  monopoly  which  could  pay  large  divi 
dends  without  fear  of  hostile  legislation. 


The  Art  of  Living 


In  this  matter  of  the  choice  of  a  vocation,  the 
case  of  the  ambitious,  promising  young  man  is 
the  one  which  commends  itself  most  to  our  sym 
pathies  ;  and  next  to  it  stands  that  of  the  general 


The  whole  field  of  practical  charity. 

utility  man — the  youth  who  has  no  definite  tastes 
or  talents,  and  who  selects  his  life  occupation 
from  considerations  other  than  a  consciousness  of 
fitness  or  of  natural  inclination.  There  are  here, 
as  elsewhere,  born  merchants,  lawyers,  doctors, 
clergymen,  architects,  engineers,  inventors,  and 


Occupation 


poets,  who  promptly  follow  their  natural  bents 
without  suggestion  and  in  the  teeth  of  difficul 
ties.  But  the  promising  young  man  in  search  of 
a  brilliant  career,  and  the  general  utility  man,  are 
perhaps  the  best  exponents  of  a  nation's  temper 
and  inclination. 

In  every  civilization 
many  promising  youths 
and  the  general  run  of 
utility  men  are  apt  to  turn 
to  business,  for  trade 
seems  to  offer  the 
largest  return  in  the 
way  of  money  with 
the  least  amount  of 
special  knowledge.  In  this  new 
country  of  ours  the  number  of 
young  men  who  have  selected  a 
business  career  during  the  last  fif 
ty  years,  from  personal  inclination, 
has  been  very  much  greater  than  elsewhere,  and 
the  tone  and  temper  of  the  community  has  swept 
the  general  utility  man  into  mere  money  making 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  reasons  for  this 
up  to  this  time  have  been  obvious :  The  resources 
and  industries  of  a  vast  and  comparatively  sparse 
ly  settled  continent  have  been  developed  in  the 
last  fifty  years,  and  the  great  prizes  in  the  shape 
of  large  fortunes  resulting  from  the  process  have 


The  general  utility  man. 


The  Art  of  Living 


naturally  captivated  the  imagination  of  ambitious 
youth.  We  have  unjustly  been  styled  a  nation  of 
shopkeepers ;  but  it  may  in  all  fairness  be  alleged 
that,  until  the  last  fifteen  years,  we  have  been  un 
der  the  spell  of  the  commercial  and  industrial 
spirit,  and  that  the  intellectual  faculties  of  the 
nation  have  been  mainly  absorbed  in  the  intro 
duction  and  maintenance  of  railroads  and  facto 
ries,  in  the  raising  and  marketing  of  grain,  in  the 
development  of  real  estate  enterprises,  and  in 
trading  in  the  commodities  or  securities  which 
these  various  undertakings  have  produced. 

The  resources  of  the  country  are  by  no  means 
exhausted ;  there  are  doubtless  more  mines  to 
open  which  will  make  their  owners  superbly  rich  ; 
new  discoveries  in  the  mechanical  or  electrical 
field  will  afford  fresh  opportunities  to  discerning 
men  of  means ;  and  individual  or  combined  capi 
tal  will  continue  to  reap  the  reward  of  both  legit 
imate  and  over- reaching  commercial  acumen. 
But  it  would  seem  as  though  the  day  of  enormous 
fortunes,  for  men  of  average  brains  and  luck,  in 
this  country  were  nearly  over,  and  that  the  great 
pecuniary  prizes  of  the  business  world  would 
henceforth  be  gleaned  only  by  extraordinary 
or  exceptional  individuals.  The  country  is  no 
longer  sparsely  settled  ;  fierce  competition  speed 
ily  cuts  the  abnormal  profit  out  of  new  enter 
prises  which  are  not  protected  by  a  patent ;  and 


Occupation 

in  order  to  be  conspicuously  successful  in  any 
branch  of  trade,  one  will  have  more  and  more 
need  of  unusual  ability  and  untiring  application. 

In  other  words,  though  ours  is  still  a  new  coun 
try,  it  will  not  be  very  long  before  the  opportuni 
ties  and  conditions  of  a  business  life  resemble 
closely  those  which  confront  young  men  else 
where.  As  in  every  civilized  country,  trade  in 
some  ,form  will  necessarily  engage  the  attention 
of  a  large  portion  of  the  population.  From  phys 
ical  causes,  a  vast  majority  of  the  citizens  of  the 
United  States  must  continue  to  derive  their  sup 
port  from  agriculture  and  the  callings  which 
large  crops  of  cereals,  cotton,  and  sugar  make  oc 
casion  for.  Consequently  business  will  always 
furnish  occupation  for  a  vast  army  of  young  men 
in  every  generation,  and  few  successes  will  seem 
more  enviable  than  those  of  the  powerful  and 
scrupulous  banker,  or  the  broad-minded  and  capa 
ble  railroad  president.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
will  the  well-to-do  American  father  and  mother, 
eager  to  see  their  promising  sons  make  the  most 
of  themselves,  continue  to  advise  them  to  go  into 
business  in  preference  to  other  callings?  And 
will  the  general  utility  man  still  be  encouraged  to 
regard  some  form  of  trade  as  the  most  promising 
outlook,  for  one  who  does  not  know  what  he 
wishes  to  do,  to  adopt  ?  He  who  hopes  to  be 
come  a  great  banker  or  illustrious  railway  man, 


The  Art  of  Living- 


must  remember  that  the  streets  of  all  our  large 
cities  teem  with  young  men  whose  breasts  harbor 
similar  ambitions. 

Doubtless,  it  was  the  expectation  of  our  fore 
fathers  that  our  American  civilization  would  add 
new  occupations  to  the  callings  inherited  from 
the  old  world,  which  would  be  alluring  both  to 
the  promising  young  man  and  the  youth  without 
predilections,  and  no  less  valuable  to  society  and 
elevating  to  the  individual  than  the  best  of  those 
by  which  men  have  earned  their  daily  bread  since 
civilization  first  was.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we 
Americans  have  added  just  one,  that  of  the  mod 
ern  stock-broker.  To  be  sure,  I  am  not  includ 
ing  the  ranchman.  It  did  seem  at  one  time  as 
though  we  were  going  to  add  another  in  him — a 
sort  of  gentleman  shepherd.  But  be  it  that  the 
cattle  have  become  too  scarce  or  too  numerous, 
be  it  that  the  demon  of  competition  has  planted 
his  hoofs  on  the  farthest  prairie,  one  by  one  the 
brave  youths  who  went  West  in  search  of  fortune, 
have  returned  East  for  the  last  time,  and  aban 
doned  the  field  to  the  cowboys  and  the  native  set 
tler.  The  pioneers  in  this  form  of  occupation 
made  snug  fortunes,  but  after  them  came  a  deluge 
of  promising  or  unpromising  youths  who  branded 
every  animal  within  a  radius  of  hundreds  of  miles 
with  a  letter  of  the  alphabet.  Their  only  living 
monument  is  the  polo  pony. 


Occupation 

Our  single  and  signal  contribution  to  the  call 
ings  of  the  world  has  been  the  apotheosis  of  the 
stock-broker.  For  the  last  twenty-five  years,  the 
well-to-do  father  and  mother  and  their  sons,  in  our 
large  cities,  have  been  under  the  spell  of  a  craze 
for  the  brokerage  business.  The  consciousness 
that  the  refinements  of  modern  living  cannot  ade 
quately  be  supplied  in  a  large  city  to  a  family 
whose  income  does  not  approximate  ten  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  is  a  cogent  argument  in  favor  of 
trying  to  grow  rich  rapidly,  and  both  the  promis 
ing  young  man  and  the  general  utility  man  wel 
comed  the  new  calling  with  open  arms.  Impelled 
by  the  notion  that  here  was  a  vocation  which  re 
quired  no  special  knowledge  or  attainments,  and 
very  little  capital,  which  was  pleasant,  gentleman 
ly,  and  not  unduly  confining,  and  which  promised 
large  returns  almost  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  young  men  became 
brokers — chiefly  stock-brokers,  but  also  cotton- 
brokers,  note-brokers,  real  estate-brokers,  insur 
ance-brokers,  and  brokers  in  nearly  everything. 
The  field  was  undoubtedly  a  rich  one  for  those 
who  first  entered  it.  There  was  a  need  for  the 
broker,  and  he  was  speedily  recognized  as  a 
valuable  addition  to  the  machinery  of  trade. 
Many  huge  fortunes  were  made,  and  we  have 
learned  to  associate  the  word  broker  with  the 
possession  of  large  means,  an  imposing  house  on 


The  Art  of  Living 


a  fashionable  street,  and  diverse  docked  and  styl 
ish  horses. 

Of  course,  the  king  of  all  brokers  has  been  the 
stock-broker,  for  to  him  was  given  the  opportunity 


to  buy  and  sell  se 
curities  on  his  own 
account,  though 
he  held  himself 
out  to  his  custom 
ers  as  merely  a 
poor  thing  who 
worked  for  a  com 
mission.  No  won 
der  that  the  young  man,  just  out  of  college,  lis 
tened  open-mouthed  to  the  tales  of  how  many 
thousands  of  dollars  a  year  so  and  so,  who  had 
been  graduated  only  five  years  before,  was  mak 
ing,  and  resolved  to  try  his  luck  with  the  same 

152 


With  the  benison  of  successful  capitalists  in 
their  salutations. 


Occupation 

Aladdin's  lamp.  Nor  was  it  strange  that  the 
sight  of  men  scarcely  out  of  their  teens,  driving 
down  town  in  fur  coats,  in  their  own  equipages, 
with  the  benison  of  successful  capitalists  in  their 
salutations,  settled  the  question  of  choice  for  the 
youth  who  was  wavering  or  did  not  know  what 
he  wished  to  do. 

It  is  scarcely  an  extreme  statement  that  the  so- 
called  aristocracy  of  our  principal  cities  to-day  is 
largely  made  up  of  men  who  are,  or  once  were, 
stock-brokers,  or  who  have  made  their  millions  by 
some  of  the  forms  of  gambling  which  our  easy-go 
ing  euphemism  styles  modern  commercial  aggres 
siveness.  Certainly,  a  very  considerable  number  of 
our  most  splendid  private  residences  have  been 
built  out  of  the  proceeds  of  successful  ventures  in 
the  stock  market,  or  the  wheat  pit,  or  by  some 
other  purely  speculative  operations.  Many  stars 
have  shone  brilliantly  for  a  season,  and  then 
plunged  precipitately  from  the  zenith  to  the  hori 
zon  ;  and  much  has  been  wisely  said  as  to  the  dan 
gers  of  speculation ;  but  the  fact  remains  that  a 
great  many  vast  fortunes  owe  their  existence  to 
the  broker's  office ;  fortunes  which  have  been 
salted  down,  as  the  phrase  is,  and  now  furnish 
support  and  titillation  for  a  leisurely,  green  old 
age,  or  enable  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  origi 
nal  maker  to  live  in  luxury. 

Whatever  the  American  mother  may  feel  as  to 
153 


The  Art  of  Living 


her  son  becoming  a  clergyman,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  many  a  mother  to-day  would  say  "  God  grant 
that  no  son  of  mine  become 
a  stock-broker."  I  know  stock 
brokers  —  many  indeed  —  who 
are  whole-souled, noble-natured 
men,  free  from  undue  worldli- 


ness,  and  with 
refined  in 
stincts.  But 
the  stock -bro 
ker,  as  he  exists 
in  the  e very-day 
life  of  our  com 
munity,  typifies 
signally  the 
gambler's  yearning  to  gain  wealth  by  short  cuts, 
and  the  monomania  which  regards  as  pitiable  those 
who  do  not  possess  and  display  the  gewgaws  of 

154 


A   leisurely,   green  old  age. 


Occupation 


feverish,  fashionable  materialism.  There  are  stock 
brokers  in  all  the  great  capitals  of  the  world,  but 
nowhere  has  the  vocation  swallowed  * 

up  the  sons  of  the  best  people  to  the 
extent  that  it  has  done  here  during 
the  last  thirty  years.    And  yet,  apart 
from  the  opportunity   it  affords  to 
grow  rich  rapidly,  what  one  good 
reason    is    there    why    a   promising 
young  man  should    decide    to   buy 
and  sell  stocks  for 
a   living  ?     Indeed, 
not  merely  decide, 
but  select,  that  oc 
cupation  as  the  most 
desirable   calling 
open  to  him  ?    Does 
it  tend  either  to  en 
noble  the  nature  or 
enrich    the    mental 
faculties  ?    It  is  one 
of   the  formal 
occupations 
made  necessa 
ry  by  the  exi- 
gencies      of 
the    business 
world,  and  as  such  is  legitimate  and  may  be  high 
ly  respectable ;   but  surely  it  does  not,  from  the 


Foreign  censors  have  ventured  not  infrequently  to  declare 
that  there  was  never  yet  a  race  so  hungry  for  money 
as  we  free-born  Americans. 


The  Art  of  Living 


nature -of  the  services  required,  deserve  to  rank 
high ;  and  really  there  would  seem  to  be  almost 
as  much  occasion  for  conferring  the  accolade  of 
social  distinction  on  a  dealer  in  excellent  fish  as 
on  a  successful  stock-broker. 

However,  alas !  it  is  easy  enough  to  assign  the 
reason  why  the  business  has  been  so  popular.  It 
appears  that,  even  under  the  flag  of  our  aspiring 
nationality,  human  nature  is  still  so  weak  that  the 
opportunity  to  grow  rich  quickly, 
when  presented,  is  apt  to  over-ride 
all  noble  considerations.  Foreign 
censors  have  ventured  not  infre- 
^  quently  to  declare  that 
there  was  never  yet  a  race 
so  hungry  for  money  as 
we  free-born  Americans; 
and  not  even  the  pious 
ejaculation  of  one  of  our 
United  States  Senators,  "  What 
have  we  to  do  with  abroad  ?  "  is  con 
clusive  proof  that  the  accusation  is 
not  well  founded.  In  fact  there 
seems  to  be  ample  proof  that  we, 
who  sneered  so  austerely  at  the  Fau 
bourg  St.  Germain  and  the  aristoc 
racies  of  the  Old  World,  and  made 
Fourth  of  July  protestations  of  poverty  and  chas 
tity,  have  fallen  down  and  worshipped  the  golden 

156 


What  have  we  to  do 
with  abroad?  " 


Occupation 

calf  merely  because  it  was  made  of  gold.  Because 
it  seemed  to  be  easier  to  make  money  as  stock 
brokers  than  in  any  other  way,  men  have  hastened 
to  become  stock-brokers.  To  be  sure  it  may  be  an 
swered  that  this  is  only  human  nature  and  the  way 
of  the  world.  True, 
perhaps ;  except  that 
we  started  on  the  as 
sumption  that  we  were 
going  to  improve  on 


Fourth  of  July  protestations  of  poverty  and  chastity. 

the  rest  of  the  world,  and  that  its  human  nature 
was  not  to  be  our  human  nature.  Would  not  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain  be  preferable  to  an  aris 
tocracy  of  stock-brokers  ? 

At  all  events,  the  law  of  supply  and  demand  is 
beginning  to  redeem  the  situation,  and,  if  not  to 
restore  our  moral  credit,  at  least  to  save  the  rising 
generation  from  falling  into  the  same  slough. 

157 


The  Art  of  Living 


The  stock-broker  industry  has  been  overstocked, 
and  the  late  young  capitalists  in  fur  overcoats, 
with  benedictory  manners,  wear  anxious  counte 
nances  under  the  stress  of  that  Old  World  demon, 
excessive  competition.  Youth  can  no  longer  wake 
up  in  the  morning  and  find  itself  the  proprietor 
of  a  rattling  business  justifying  a  steam-yacht  and 
a  four-in-hand.  The  good  old  days  have  gone  for 
ever,  and  there  is  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth 
where  of  late  there  was  joy  and  much  accumula 
tion.  There  is  not  business  enough  for  all  the 
promising  young  men  who  are  stock-brokers 
already,  and  the  youth  of  promise  must  turn  else 
where. 

II 

BUT  though  the  occupation  of  broker  has  be 
come  less  tempting,  the  promising  youth  has  not 
ceased  to  look  askance  at  any  calling  which  does 
not  seem  to  foreshadow  a  fortune  in  a  short  time. 
He  is  only  just  beginning  to  appreciate  that  we 
are  getting  down  to  hard  pan,  so  to  speak,  and 
are  nearly  on  a  level,  as  regards  the  hardships  of 
individual  progress,  with  our  old  friends  the  effete 
civilizations.  He  finds  it  difficult  to  rid  himself  of 
the  "  Arabian  Nights'  "  notion  that  he  has  merely 
to  clap  his  hands  to  change  ten  dollars  into  a 
thousand  in  a  single  year,  and  to  transform  his 

158 


Occupation 

bachelor  apartments  into  a  palace  beautiful,  with 
a  wife,  yacht,  and  horses,  before  he  is  thirty-five. 
He  shrinks  from  the  idea  of  being  obliged  to  take 
seriously  into  account  anything  less  than  a  hun 
dred-dollar  bill,  and  of  earning  a  livelihood  by 
slow  yet  persistent  acceptance  of  tens  and  fives. 
His  present  ruling  ambition  is  to  be  a  promoter; 
that  is,  to  be  an  organizer  of  schemes,  and  to  let 
others  do  the  real  work  and  attend  to  the  disgust 
ing  details.  There  are  a  great  many  gentry  of 
this  kind  in  the  field  just  at  present.  Among  them 
is,  or  rather  was,  Lewis  Pell,  as  I  will  call  him  for 
the  occasion.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  he  is 
doing  now.  But  he  was,  until  lately,  a  promoter. 
A  handsome  fellow  was  Lewis  Pell.  Tall,  gen 
tlemanly,  and  athletic-looking,  with  a  gracious,  im 
posing  presence  and  manner,  which  made  his 
rather  commonplace  conversation  seem  almost 
wisdom.  He  went  into  a  broker's  office  after 
leaving  college,  like  many  other  promising  young 
men  of  his  time,  but  he  was  clever  enough  either 
to  realize  that  he  was  a  little  late,  or  that  the  pro 
moter  business  offered  a  more  promising  scope 
for  his  genius,  for  he  soon  disappeared  from  the 
purlieus  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  and  the  next  thing 
we  heard  of  him  was  as  the  tenant  of  an  exceed 
ingly  elaborate  set  of  offices  on  the  third  floor 
of  a  most  expensive  modern  monster  building. 
Shortly  after  I  read  in  the  financial  columns  of 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  daily  press  that  Mr.  Lewis  Pell  had  sold  to  a 
syndicate  of  bankers  the  first  mortgage  and  the 
debenture  bonds  of  the  Light  and  Power  Traction 
Company,  an  electrical  corporation  organized 
under  the  laws  of  the  State  of  New 
Jersey.  Thirty  days  later  I  saw 
again  that  he  had  sailed  for  Europe 
in  order  to  interest  London  capital 
in  a  large  enterprise,  the  nature  of 
which  was  still  withheld  from  the 
public. 

During  the  next 
two  or  three  years 
I  ran  across  Pell 
on  several  occa- 
sions.  He  seemed 
always  to  be  liv 
ing  at  the  high- 
.  est  pressure,  but 
the  brilliancy  of 
his  career  had  not 
impaired  his  good 
manners  or  attractiveness.  I 
refer  to  his  career  as  brilliant  at 
this  time  because  both  his  op 
erations  and  the  consequent  style  of  living  which 
he  pursued,  as  described  by  him  on  two  different 
evenings  when  I  dined  with  him,  seemed  to  me  in 
my  capacity  of  ordinary  citizen  to  savor  of  the 


His  bachelor  apartments. 


Occupation 


marvellous,  if  not  the  supernatural.  He  frankly 
gave  me  to  understand  that  it  seemed  to  him  a 
waste  of  time  for  an  ambitious  man  to  pay  atten 
tion  to  details,  and  that  his  business  was  to  origi 
nate  vast  undertakings,  made  possible  only  by 
large  combinations  of  corporate  or  private  capital. 
The  word  combination,  which  was  frequently  on 
his  lips,  seemed  to  be  the  corner-stone  of  his  sys 
tem.  I  gathered  that  the 
part  which  he  sought  to 
play  in  the  battle  of  life 
was  to  breathe  the  breath, 
or  the  apparent  breath, 
of  existence  i  nto  huge 
schemes,  and  after  having 
given  them  a  quick 
but  comprehensive 
squeeze  or  two  for  his 
own  pecuniary  benefit, 
to  hand  them  over  to 
syndicates,  or  other 
aggregations  of  capitalists, 
for  the  benefit  of  whom 
they  might  concern.  He 
confided  to  me  that  he  em 
ployed  eleven  typewriters;  that  he  had  visited 
London  seven,  and  Paris  three  times,  in  the 
last  three  years,  on  flying  trips  to  accomplish 
brilliant  deals ;  that  though  his  head-quarters 

161 


He  was  until  lately  a  promoter. 


The  Art  of  Living 


were  in  New  York,  scarcely  a  week  passed  in 
which  he  was  not  obliged  to  run  over  to  Chicago, 
Boston,  Washington,  Denver,  Duluth,  or  Cincin 
nati,  as  the  case  might  be.  Without  being  boast 
ful  as  to  his  profits,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
acknowledge  to  me  that  if  he  should  do 
as  well  in  the  next  three  years  as  in 
the  last,  he  would  be  able  to  retire 
from  business  with  a  million 
or  so. 

Apart  from  this  confes 
sion,  his  personal  ex 
travagance  left  no 

room  for  doubt 
that  he  must  be 
very  rich.  Cham 
pagne  flowed  for 
him  as  Croton  or 
Cochituate  for  most  of  us,  and 
it  was  evident  from  his  language 
that  the  hiring  of  special  trains 
from  time  to  time  was  a  rather 
less  serious  matter  than  it  would  be  for  the  ordi 
nary  citizen  to  take  a  cab.  The  account  that  he 
gave  of  three  separate  entertainments  he  had  ten 
dered  to  syndicates — of  ten,  twelve,  and  seven 
teen  covers  respectively,  at  twenty  dollars  a  cover 
—fairly  made  my  mouth  water  and  my  eyes  stick 
out,  so  that  I  felt  constrained  to  murmur,  "  Your 

162 


A  pious  old  uncle  of  mine." 


Occupation 

profits  must  certainly  be  very  large,  if  you  can 
afford  that  sort  of  thing." 

Pell  smiled  complacently  and  a  little  conde 
scendingly.  "  I  could  tell  you  of  things  which  I 
have  done  which  would  make  that  seem  a  baga 
telle,"  he  answered,  with  engaging  mystery 
Then  after  a  moment's  pause  he  said,  "  Do  you 
know,  my  dear  fellow,  that  when  I  was  gradu 
ated  I  came  very  near  going  into  the  office  of  a 
pious  old  uncle  of  mine  who  has  been  a  commis 
sion  merchant  all  his  life,  and  is  as  poor  as  Job's 
turkey  in  spite  of  it  all — that  is,  poor  as  men  are 
rated  nowadays.  He  offered  to  take  me  as  a 
clerk  at  one  thousand  dollars  a  year,  with  the 
promise  of  a  partnership  before  I  was  bald-headed 
in  case  I  did  well.  Supposing  I  had  accepted  his 
offer,  where  should  I  be  to-day  ?  Grubbing  at  an 
office-desk  and  earning  barely  enough  for  board 
and  lodging.  I  remember  my  dear  mother  took 
it  terribly  to  heart  because  I  went  into  a  broker's 
office  instead.  By  the  way,  between  ourselves, 
I'm  building  a  steam-yacht — nothing  very  won 
derful,  but  a  neat,  comfortable  craft — and  I'm 
looking  forward  next  summer  to  inviting  my 
pious  old  uncle  to  cruise  on  her  just  to  see  him 
open  his  eyes." 

That  was  three  years  ago,  and  to-day  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  Lewis  Pell  is  without 
a  dollar  in  the  world,  or  rather,  that  every  dollar 

163 


The  Art  of  Living 


which  he  has  belongs  to  his  creditors.  I  had 
heard  before  his  failure  was  announced  that  he 
was  short  of  money,  for  the  reason  that  several 
enterprises  with  which  his  name  was  connected 
had  been  left  on  his  .hands — neither  the  syndicates 
nor  the  public  would  touch  them  —  so  his  sus 
pension  was  scarcely  a  surprise.  He  at  present, 
poor  fellow,  is  only  one  of  an  army  of  young  men 
wandering  dejectedly  through  the  streets  of  New 
York  or  Chicago  in  these  days  of  financial  de 
pression,  vainly  seeking  for  something  to  pro 
mote. 

When  the  promising  youth  and  the  general 
utility  man  do  get  rid  of  the  "  Arabian  Nights'  " 
notion,  and  recognize  that  signal  success  here,  in 
any  form,  is  likely  to  become  more  and  more  diffi 
cult  to  attain,  and  will  be  the  legitimate  reward 
only  of  men  of  real  might,  of  unusual  abilities, 
originality,  or  dauntless  industry,  some  of  the  call 
ings  which  have  fallen,  as  it  were,  into  disrepute 
through  their  lack  of  gambling  facilities,  are 
likely  to  loom  up  again  socially.  It  may  be,  how 
ever,  that  modern  business  methods  and  devices 
have  had  the  effect  of  killing  for  all  time  that 
highly  respectable  pillar  of  society  of  fifty  years 
ago,  the  old-fashioned  merchant,  who  bought  and 
sold  on  his  own  behalf,  or  on  commission,  real 
cargoes  of  merchandise,  and  real  consignments 
of  cotton,  wheat,  and  corn.  The  telegraph  and 


Occupation 

the  warehouse  certificate  have  worked  such 
havoc  that  almost  everything-  now  is  bought  and 
sold  over  and  over  again  before  it  is  grown  or 
manufactured,  and  by  the  time  it  is  on  the  mar 
ket  there  is  not  a  shred  of  profit  in  it  for  any 
body  but  the  retail  dealer.  It  remains  to  be  seen 
whether,  as  the  speculative  spirit  subsides,  the 
merchant  is  going  to  reinstate  himself  and  regain 
his  former  prestige.  It  may  already  be  said  that 
the  promising  youth  does  not  regard  him  with 
quite  so  much  contempt  as  he  did. 

We  have  always  professed  in  this  country  great 
theoretical  respect  for  the  schoolmaster,  but  we 
have  been  careful,  as  the  nation  waxed  in  material 
prosperity,  to  keep  his  pay  down  and  to  shove 
him  into  the  social  background  more  and  more. 
The  promising  youth  could  not  afford  to  spend 
his  manhood  in  this  wise,  and  we  have  all  really 
been  too  busy  making  money  to  think  very  much 
about  those  who  are  doing  the  teaching.  Have 
we  not  always  heard  it  stated  that  our  schools 
and  colleges  are  second  to  none  in  the  world  ? 
And  if  our  schools,  of  course  our  schoolmasters. 
Therefore  why  bother  our  heads  about  them  ?  It 
is  indeed  wonderful,  considering  the  little  popu 
lar  interest  in  the  subject  until  lately,  that  our 
schoolmasters  and  our  college  professors  are  so 
competent  as  they  are,  and  that  the  profession  has 
flourished  on  the  whole  in  spite  of  indifference 

165 


The  Art  of  Living 


and  superiority.  How  can  men  of  the  highest 
class  be  expected  to  devote  their  lives  to  a  profes 
sion  which  yields  little  more  than  a  pittance  when 
one  is  thoroughly  successful  ?  And  yet  the  edu 
cation  of  our  children  ought  to  be  one  of  our 

dearest  concerns,  and 
it  is  difficult  to  see  why 
the  State  is  satisfied  to 
pay  the  average  in 
structor  or  instructress 
of  youth  about  as  much 
as  the  city  laborer  or  a  horse- 
car  conductor  receives. 
There  are  signs  that  those  in 
charge  of  our  large  educational 
institutions  all  over  the  country 
are  beginning  to  recognize  that 
ripe  scholarship  and  rare  abili 
ties  as  a  teacher  are  entitled  to 
be  well  recompensed  pecuniar 
ily,  and  that  the  breed  of  such 
men  is  likely  to  increase  some 
what  in  proportion  to  the  size 
and  number  of  the  prizes  of 
fered.  Our  college  presidents  and  professors, 
those  at  the  head  of  our  large  schools  and  semi 
naries,  should  receive  such  salaries  as  will  enable 
them  to  live  adequately.  By  this  policy  not  only 
would  our  promising  young  men  be  encouraged 

1 66 


The  schoolmaster. 


Occupation 

to  pursue  learning,  but  those  in  the  highest  places 
would  not  be  forced  by  poverty  to  live  in  com 
parative  retirement,  but  could  become  active  so 
cial  figures  and  leaders.  In  any  profession  or  call 
ing  under  present  social  conditions  only  those  in 
the  foremost  rank  can  hope  to  earn  more  than  a 
living,  varying  in  quality  according  to  the  degree 
of  success  and  the  rank  of  the  occupation  ;  but  it 
is  to  be  hoped — and  there  seems  some  reason  to 
believe — that  the  great  rewards  which  come  to 
those  more  able  and  industrious  than  their  fellows 
will  henceforth,  in  the  process  of  our  national  evo 
lution,  be  more  evenly  distributed,  and  not  con 
fined  so  conspicuously  to  gambling,  speculative, 
or  commercial  successes.  The  leaders  in  the 
great  professions  of  law  and  medicine  have  for 
some  time  past  declined  to  serve  the  free-born 
community  without  liberal  compensation,  and  the 
same  community,  which  for  half  a  century  secretly 
believed  that  only  a  business  man  has  the  right  to 
grow  rich,  has  begun  to  recognize  that  there  are 
even  other  things  besides  litigation  and  health 
which  ought  to  come  high.  For  instance,  although 
the  trained  architect  still  meets  serious  and  de 
pressing  competition  from  those  ready-made  ex 
perimenters  in  design  who  pronounce  the  first  c  in 
the  word  architect  as  though  it  were  an  s,  the  pub 
lic  is  rapidly  discovering  that  a  man  cannot  build 
an  attractive  house  without  special  knowledge. 


The  Art  of  Living 


In  the  same  class  with  the  law,  medicine,  and 
architecture,  and  seemingly  offering  at  present  a 
greater  scope  for  an  ambitious  young  man,  is  en 
gineering  in  all  its  branches.  The  furnaces,  mines, 
manufactories,  and  the  hydraulic,  electrical,  or 
other  plants  connected  with  the  numerous  vast 
mechanical  business  enterprises  of  the  country  are 
furnishing  immediate  occupation  for  hundreds  of 
graduates  of  the  scientific  or  polytechnic  schools 
at  highly  respectable  salaries.  This  field  of  use 
fulness  is  certain  for  a  long  time  to  come  to  offer 
employment  and  a  fair  livelihood  to  many,  and 
large  returns  to  those  who  outstrip  their  contem 
poraries.  More  and  more  is  the  business  man, 
the  manufacturer,  and  the  capitalist  likely  to  be 
dependent  for  the  economical  or  successful  de 
velopment  and  management  of  undertakings  on 
the  judgment  of  scientific  experts  in  his  own  em 
ployment  or  called  in  to  advise,  and  it  is  only 
meet  that  the  counsel  given  should  be  paid  for 
handsomely. 

Those  who  pursue  literature  or  art  in  their 
various  branches  in  this  country,  and  have  talents 
in  some  degree  commensurate  with  their  ambi 
tion,  are  now  generally  able  to  make  a  comfortable 
livelihood.  Indeed  the  men  and  women  in  the 
very  front  rank  are  beginning  to  receive  incomes 
which  would  be  highly  satisfactory  to  a  leading 
lawyer  or  physician.  Of  course  original  work  in 


Occupation 

literature  or  art  demands  special  ability  and  fitness, 
but  the  general  utility  man  is  beginning  to  have 
many  opportunities  presented  to  him  in  connec 
tion  with  what  may  be  called  the  clerical  work  of 
these  professions.  The  great  magazines  and  pub 
lishing  houses  have  an  increasing  need  for  trained, 
scholarly  men,  for  capable  critics,  and  discerning 
advisers  in  the  field  both  of  letter-press  and  illus 
tration.  Another  calling  which  seems  to  promise 
great  possibilities  both  of  usefulness  and  income 
to  those  who  devote  themselves  to  it  earnestly  is 
the  comparatively  new  profession  of  journalism. 
The  reporter,  with  all  his  present  horrors,  is  in  the 
process  of  evolution  ;  but  the  journalist  is  sure  to 
remain  the  high-priest  of  democracy.  His  influ 
ence  is  almost  certain  to  increase  materially,  but 
it  will  not  increase  unless  he  seeks  to  lead  public 
thought  instead  of  bowing  to  it.  The  newspaper, 
in  order  to  flourish,  must  be  a  moulder  of  opinion, 
and  to  accomplish  this  those  who  control  its 
columns  must  more  and  more  be  men  of  educa 
tion,  force,  and  high  ideals.  Competition  will 
winnow  here  as  elsewhere,  but  those  who  by  abil 
ity  and  industry  win  the  chief  places  will  stand 
high  in  the  community  and  command  large  pay 
for  their  services. 

An  aristocracy  of  brains — that  is  to  say,  an 
aristocracy  composed  of  individuals  successful 
and  prominent  in  their  several  callings — seems  to 

169 


The  Art  of  Living 


be  the  logical  sequence  of  our  institutions  under 
present  social  and  industrial  conditions.  The  only 
aristocracy  which  can  exist  in  a  democracy  is  one 
of  honorable  success  evidenced  by  wealth  or  a 
handsome  income,  but  the  character  of  such  an 
aristocracy  will  depend  on  the  ambitions  and 
tastes  of  the  nation.  The  inevitable  economic 
law  of  supply  and  demand  governs  here  as  else 
where,  and  will  govern  until  such  a  time  as 
society  may  be  reconstructed  on  an  entirely  new 
basis.  Only  the  leaders  in  any  vocation  can  hope 
to  grow  rich,  but  in  proportion  as  the  demands  of 
the  nation  for  what  is  best  increase  will  the  type 
and  characteristics  of  these  leaders  improve.  The 
doing  away  with  inherited  orders  of  nobility  and 
deliberate,  patented  class  distinctions,  gives  the 
entire  field  to  wealth.  We  boast  proudly  that  no 
artificial  barriers  confine  individual  social  promo 
tion;  but  we  must  remember  at  the  same  time 
that  those  old  barriers  meant  more  than  the  per 
petuation  of  perfumed  ladies  and  idle  gentlemen 
from  century  to  century.  We  are  too  apt  to  for 
get  that  the  aristocracies  of  the  old  world  signified 
in  the  first  place  a  process  of  selection.  The 
kings  and  the  nobles,  the  lords  and  the  barons,  the 
knights  who  fought  and  the  ladies  for  whom  they 
died,  were  the  master-spirits  of  their  days  and  gen 
erations,  the  strong  arms  and  the  strong  brains  of 
civilized  communities.  They  stood  for  force,  the 

170 


Occupation 

force  of  the  individual  who  was  more  intelligent, 
more  capable,  and  mightier  in  soul  and  body  than 
his  neighbors,  and  who  claimed  the  prerogatives  of 
superiority  on  that  account.  These  master-spir 
its,  it  is  true,  used  these  prerogatives  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  crystallize  society  into  the  classes 
and  the  masses,  so  hopelessly  for  the  latter  that 
the  gulf  between  them  still  is  wide  as  an  ocean, 
notwithstanding  that  present  nobilities  have  been 
shorn  of  their  power  so  that  they  may  be  said  to 
exist  chiefly  by  sufferance.  And  yet  the  world  is 
still  the  same  in  that  there  are  men  more  intelli 
gent,  more  capable,  and  mightier  in  soul  and 
body  than  their  fellows.  The  leaders  of  the  past 
won  their  spurs  by  prowess  with  the  battle-axe 
and  spear,  by  wise  counsel  in  affairs  of  state,  by 
the  sheer  force  of  their  superior  manhood.  The 
gentleman  and  lady  stood  for  the  best  blood  of 
the  world,  though  they  so  often  belied  it  by  their 
actions. 

We,  who  are  accustomed  to  applaud  our  civil 
ization  as  the  hope  of  the  world,  may  well  look 
across  the  water  and  take  suggestions  from  the 
institutions  of  Great  Britain,  not  with  the  idea  of 
imitation,  but  with  a  view  to  consider  the  forces 
at  work  there.  For  nearly  a  century  now  the 
government,  though  in  form  a  monarchy,  has  been 
substantially  a  constitutional  republic,  imbued 
with  inherited  traditions  and  somewhat  galvanized 


The  Art  of  Living 


by  class  distinctions,  but  nevertheless  a  constitu 
tional  republic.  The  nobility  still  exists  as  a  sort 
of  French  roof  or  Eastern  pagoda  to  give  a  pleas 
ing  appearance  to  the  social  edifice.  The  heredi 
tary  meaning  of  titles  has  been  so  largely  neg 
atived  by  the  introduction  of  new  blood  —  the 
blood  of  the  strongest  men  of  the  period — that 
they  have  become,  what  they  originally  were, 
badges  to  distinguish  the  men  most  valuable  to 
the  State.  Their  abolition  is  merely  a  question  of 
time,  and  many  of  the  leaders  to  whom  they  are 
proffered  reject  them  as  they  would  a  cockade  or 
a  yellow  satin  waistcoat.  On  the  other  hand,  and 
here  is  the  point  of  argument,  the  real  aristocracy 
of  England  for  the  last  hundred  years  has  been  an 
aristocracy  of  the  foremost,  ablest,  and  worthiest 
men  of  the  nation,  and  with  few  exceptions  the 
social  and  pecuniary  rewards  have  been  bestowed 
both  by  the  State  and  by  public  appreciation  on 
the  master-spirits  of  the  time  in  the  best  sense. 
Brilliant  statesmanship,  wisdom  on  the  bench,  the 
surgeon's  skill,  the  banker's  sound  discernment, 
genius  in  literature  and  art,  when  signally  contrib 
uted  by  the  individual,  have  won  him  fame  and 
fortune. 

It  may  be  said,  perhaps,  that  the  pecuniary  re 
wards  of  science  and  literature  have  been  less  con 
spicuous  than  those  accorded  to  other  successes, 
but  that  has  been  due  to  the  inherent  practical 


Occupation 

temperament  and  artistic  limitations  of  the  Eng 
lishman,  and  can  scarcely  be  an  argument  against 
the  contention  that  English  society  in  the  nine 
teenth  century,  with  all  its  social  idiosyncrasies, 
has  really  been  graded  on  the  order  of  merit. 

The  tide  of  democracy  has  set  in  across  the 
water  and  is  running  strongly,  and  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  the  next  century  is  likely  to  work 
great  and  strange  changes  in  the  conditions  of 
society  in  England  as  well  as  here.  The  same 
questions  practically  are  presented  to  each  nation, 
except  that  there  a  carefully  constructed  and  in 
many  respects  admirable  system  of  society  is  to 
be  disintegrated.  We  are  a  new  country,  and  we 
have  a  right  to  be  hopeful  that  we  are  sooner  or 
later  to  outstrip  all  civilizations.  Nor  is  it  a  blem 
ish  that  the  astonishing  development  of  our  ma 
terial  resources  has  absorbed  the  energies  of  our 
best  blood.  But  it  now  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  the  standards  of  pure  democracy,  with 
out  traditions  or  barriers  to  point  the  way,  are  to 
justify  the  experiment  and  improve  the  race.  The 
character  of  our  aristocracy  will  depend  on  the 
virtues  and  tastes  of  the  people,  and  the  struggle 
is  to  be  between  aspiration  and  contentment  with 
low  ambitions.  Our  original  undertaking  has  been 
made  far  more  difficult  by  the  infusion  of  the  worst 
blood  in  Christendom,  the  lees  of  foreign  nations; 
but  the  result  of  the  experiment  will  be  much 


The  Art  of  Living 


more  convincing  because  of  this  change  in  con 
ditions. 

Who  are  to  be  the  men  of  might  and  heroes  of 
democracy  ?  That  will  depend  on  the  demands 
and  aspirations  of  the  enfranchised  people.  With 
all  its  imperfections,  the  civilization  of  the  past 
has  fostered  the  noble  arts  and  stirred  genius  to 
immortalize  itself  in  bronze  and  marble,  in  cathe 
dral  spires,  in  masterpieces  of  painting  and  litera 
ture,  in  untiring  scholarship,  in  fervent  labors  in 
law,  medicine,  and  science.  Democracy  must  care 
for  these  things,  and  encourage  the  individual  to 
choose  worthy  occupations,  or  society  will  suffer. 
We  hope  and  believe  that,  in  the  long  run,  the 
standards  of  humanity  will  be  raised  rather  than 
lowered  by  the  lifting  of  the  flood-gates  which 
divide  the  privileged  classes  from  the  mass  ;  but  it 
behooves  us  all  to  remember  that  while  demand 
and  supply  must  be  the  leading  arbiters  in  the 
choice  of  a  vocation,  the  responsibility  of  selec 
tion  is  left  to  each  individual.  Only  by  the  exam 
ple  of  individuals  will  society  be  saved  from  ac 
cepting  the  low,  vulgar  aims  and  ambitions  of  the 
mass  as  a  desirable  weal,  and  this  is  the  strongest 
argument  against  the  doctrines  of  those  who  would 
repress  individuality  for  the  alleged  benefit  of 
mankind  as  a  whole.  The  past  has  given  us  many 
examples  of  the  legislator  who  cannot  be  bribed, 
of  the  statesman  faithful  to  principle,  of  the  stu- 


Occupation 

dent  who  disdains  to  be  superficial,  of  the  gen 
tleman  who  is  noble  in  thought,  and  speech  and 
action,  and  they  stand  on  the  roll  of  the  world's 
great  men.  Democracy  cannot  afford  not  to  con 
tinue  to  add  to  this  list,  and  either  she  must  steel 
her  countenance  against  the  cheap  man  and  his 
works,  or  sooner  or  later  be  confounded.  Was 
Marie  Antoinette  a  more  dangerous  enemy  of  the 
people  than  the  newspaper  proprietor  who  acquires 
fortune  by  catering  to  the  lowest  tastes  and  prej 
udices  of  the  public,  or  the  self-made  capitalist 
who  argues  that  every  man  has  his  price,  and 
seeks  to  accomplish  legislation  by  bribery  ? 


THE   USE   OF  TIME 


I  BROUGHT  Rogers  home  with  me  again  the 
other  day.  I  do  not  mean  Rogers  in  the 
flesh  ;  but  the  example  of  Rogers  as  a  bogy  with 
which  to  confound  my  better  half  and  myself. 
You  may  recall  that  Rogers  is  the  bookkeeper 
for  Patterson  the  banker,  and  that  he  has  brought 
up  and  educated  a  family  on  a  salary  of  twenty- 
two  hundred  dollars  a  year. 

"  Barbara,"  said  I,  "  we  were  reflecting  yester 
day  that  we  never  have  time  to  do  the  things  we 
really  wish  to  do.  Have  you  ever  considered 
how  Rogers  spends  his  time?  " 

My  wife  admitted  that  she  had  not,  and  she 
dutifully  waited  for  me  to  proceed,  though  I 
could  tell  from  the  expression  of  her  mouth  that 
she  did  not  expect  to  derive  much  assistance  from 
the  example  of  Mr.  Rogers.  Therefore  I  made  an 
interesting  pathological  deduction  to  begin  with. 

"  Rogers  does  not  live  on  his  nerves  from  one 
year's  end  to  the  other,  as  we  do." 

"  I  congratulate  him,"  said  Barbara,  with  a 
sigh. 


The  Use  of  Time 


re- 
up 
his 


"  And  yet,"  I  continued,  "  he  leads  a  highly 
spectable  and  fairly  interesting  life.     He  gets 
at  precisely  the  same  hour  every  morning,  has 
breakfast,  reads  the  paper,  and  is  at  his 
desk  punctually  on  time.     He  dines  fru 
gally,  returns  to  his  desk  until   half-past 
four  or  five,  and  after  performing 
any  errands  which  Mrs.  Rogers 
has  asked  him  to  attend  to,  goes 
home  to  the  bosom  of  his  family. 
There  he  exchanges  his  coat  and 
boots    for    a    dressing- 
gown,  or  aged  smoking- 
jacket,  and  slippers,  and 
remains  by  his  fireside 
absorbed  in  the  evening 
paper    until    tea-time. 
Conversation    with    the 
members  of   his  family 
beguiles  him  for  half  an 
hour  after  the  comple-    "  Looks  to  see  how  his  sPecimens  are  srow- 

ing  under  the  glass  case  in  the  corner." 

tion  of  the  meal ;    then 

he  settles  down  to  the  family  weekly  magazine, 
or  plays  checkers  or  backgammon  with  his  wife 
or  daughters.  After  a  while,  if  he  is  interested 
in  ferns  or  grasses,  he  looks  to  see  how  his  speci 
mens  are  growing  under  the  glass  case  in  the 
corner.  He  pats  the  cat  and  makes  sure  that  the 
canary  is  supplied  with  seed.  Now  and  then  he 

177 


The  Art  of  Living 


brings  home  a  puzzle,  like  '  Pigs  in  Clover,'  which 
keeps  him  up  half  an  hour  later  than  usual,  but 
ordinarily  his  head  is  nodding  before  the  stroke 
of  ten  warns  him  that  his  bed-hour  has  come. 
And  just  at  the  time  that  the  wife  of  his  employ 
er,  Patterson,  may  be  setting  out  for  a  ball,  he  is 
tucking  himself 
up  in  bed  by 
the  side  of  Mrs. 
Rogers. 

"  Poor  man !  " 
interjected  Bar 
bara. 

"  He  has  his  di 
versions,"  said  I. 
"  Now  and  again 
neighbors  drop  in 
for  a  chat,  and  the 
evening  is  wound  up  with  a 
pitcher  of  lemonade  and  angel- 
cake.     He  and  his  wife  drop 
in,  in  their  turn,  or  he  goes  ••  And  just  at  the  time  that  the 

...        |  s^.  wife  of  his  employer,  Patterson, 

to  a  political  caucus.  Unce  may  be  8etting  out  for  a  baM... 
a  fortnight  comes  the  church 
sociable,  and  every  now  and  then  a  wedding. 
From  time  to  time  he  and  Mrs.  Rogers  attend  lect 
ures.  His  young  people  entertain  their  friends, 
as  the  occasion  offers,  in  a  simple  way,  and  on 
Sunday  he  goes  to  church  in  the  morning  and 

178 


The  Use  of  Time 


falls  to  sleep  after  a  heavy  dinner  in  the  afternoon. 
He  leads  a  quiet,  peaceful,  conservative  existence, 
unharassed  by  social  functions  and  perpetual  ex 
citement." 

"And  he  prides  himself,  I  dare  say,"  said  Bar- 


"  Now  and  again  the  neighbors  drop  in  for  a  chat." 

bara,  "  on  the  score  of  its  virtuousness.  He  saves 
his  nerves  and  he  congratulates  himself  that  he 
is  not  a  society  person,  as  he  calls  it.  Your  Mr. 
Rogers  may  be  a  very  estimable  individual,  dear, 
in  his  own  sphere,  and  I  do  think  he  manages 
wonderfully  on  his  twenty-two  hundred  dollars 
a  year ;  but  I  should  prefer  to  see  you  lose  your 


The  Art  of  Living 


nerves  and  become  a  gibbering  victim  of  nervous 
prostration  rather  than  that  you  should  imitate 
him." 

"  I'm  not  proposing  to  imitate  him,  Barbara,"  I 
answered,  gravely.  "  I  admit  that  his  life  seems 
rather  dull  and  not  altogether  inspiring,  but  I  do 
think  that  a  little  of  his  repose  would  be  benefi 
cial  to  many  of  us  whose  interests  are  more 
varied.  We  might  borrow  it  to  advantage  for  a 
few  months  in  the  year,  don't  you  think  so  ?  I 
believe,  Barbara,  that  if  you  and  I  were  each  of 
us  to  lie  flat  on  our  backs  for  one  hour  every  day 
and  think  of  nothing — and  not  even  clinch  our 
hands — we  should  succeed  in  doing  more  things 
than  we  really  wish  to  do." 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  climate — they  say  it's  the 
climate,"  said  Barbara,  pensively.  "  Foreigners 
don't  seem  to  be  affected  in  that  way.  They're 
not  always  in  a  hurry  as  we  are,  and  yet  they 
seem  to  accomplish  very  nearly  as  much.  We  all 
know  what  it  is  to  be  conscious  of  that  dreadful, 
nervous,  hurried  feeling,  even  when  we  have 
plenty  of  time  to  do  the  things  we  have  to  do.  I 
catch  myself  walking  fast — racing,  in  fact — when 
there  is  not  the  least  need  of  it.  I  don't  clinch 
my  hands  nearly  so  much  as  I  used,  and  I've 
ceased  to  hold  on  to  the  pillow  in  bed  as  though 
it  were  a  life-preserver,  out  of  deference  to  Del- 
sarte,  but  when  it  comes  to  lying  down  flat  on  my 

;8o 


The  Use  of  Time 


back  for  an  hour  a  day  —  every  day  —  really  it 
isn't  feasible.  It's  an  ideal  plan,  I  dare  say,  but 
the  days  are  not  long  enough.  Just  take  to-day, 
for  instance,  and  tell  me,  please,  when  I  had  time 
to  lie  down." 

"  You  are  clinching  your  hands  now,"  I  re 
marked. 

"  Because  you  have  irritated  me  with  your 
everlasting  Mr.  Rogers,"  retorted  Barbara.  She 
examined,  nevertheless,  somewhat  dejectedly,  the 
marks  of  her  nails  in  her  palms.  "  In  the  morn 
ing,  for  instance,  when  I  came  down  to  breakfast 
there  was  the  mail.  Two  dinner  invitations  and 
an  afternoon  tea  ;  two  sets  of  wedding-cards,  and 
a  notice  of  a  lecture  by  Miss  Clara  Hatheway  on 
the  relative  condition  of  primary  schools  here 
and  abroad  ;  requests  for  subscriptions  to  the  new 
Cancer  Hospital  and  the  Children's  Fresh  Air 
and  Vacation  Fund ;  an  advertisement  of  an  after- 
holiday  sale  of  boys'  and  girls'  clothes  at  Halli- 
day's ;  a  note  from  Mrs.  James  Green  asking 
particulars  regarding  our  last  cook,  and  a  letter 
from  the  President  of  my  Woman's  Club  notify 
ing  me  that  I  was  expected  to  talk  to  them  at  the 
next  meeting  on  the  arguments  in  favor  of  and 
against  the  ownership  by  cities  and  towns  of  gas- 
and  water-works.  All  these  had  to  be  answered, 
noted,  or  considered.  Then  I  had  to  interview 
the  cook  and  the  butcher  and  the  grocer  about 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  dinner,  give  orders  that  a  button  should  be 
sewn  on  one  pair  of  your  trousers  and  a  stain  re 
moved  from  another,  and  give  directions  to  the 
chore-man  to  oil  the  lock  of  the  front-door,  and 
tell  him  to  go  post-haste  for  the  plumber  to  ex 
tract  the  blotting-paper  which  the  children  yes 
terday  stuffed  down  the 
drain-pipe  in  the  bath-tub, 
so  that  the  water  could 
not  escape.  Then  I  had 
to  sit  down  and  read  the 
newspaper.  Not  because 
I  had  time,  or  wished  to, 
but  to  make  sure  that 
there  was  nothing  in  it 
which  you  could  accuse 
me  of  not  having  read. 
After  this  I  dressed  to 
go  out.  I  stopped  at  the 
florist's  to  order  some 
roses  for  Mrs.  Julius  Cae 
sar,  whose  mother 
r^  is  dead  ;  at  Hap- 
good  &  Wales's 
and  at  Jones's  for 
cotton-batting, 
hooks  and  eyes,  and  three  yards  of  ribbon ;  at  Bel 
cher's  for  an  umbrella  to  replace  mine,  which  you 
left  in  the  cable-cars,  and  at  the  library  to  select 


\   arrived    home    breathless   for  the   children's 
dinner." 


The  Use  of  Time 


something  to  read.  I  arrived  home  breathless  for 
the  children's  dinner,  and  immediately  afterward  I 
dressed  and  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Executive 
Committee  of  the  Woman's  Club,  stopping  on  the 
way  to  inquire  if  Mrs.  Wilson's  little  boy  were 
better.  We  started  by  discussing  a  proposed 
change  in  our  Constitution  regarding  the  num 
ber  of  black-balls  necessary  to  exclude  a  candi 
date,  and  drifted  off  on  to  '  Trilby.'  It  was  nearly 
five  when  I  got  away,  and  as  I  felt  it  on  my  con 
science  to  go  both  to  Mrs.  Southwick's  and  Mrs. 
Williams's  teas,  I  made  my  appearance  at  each 
for  a  few  minutes,  but  managed  to  slip  away  so 
as  to  be  at  home  at  six.  When  you  came  in  I 
had  just  been  reading  to  the  children  and  show 
ing  them  about  their  lessons.  Now  I  have  only 
just  time  to  dress  for  dinner;  for  we  dine  at  the 
Gregory  Browns,  at  half-past  seven.  We  ought  to 
go  later  to  the  reception  at  Mrs.  Hollis's — it  is  her 
last  of  three  and  we  haven't  been  yet — but  I  sup 
pose  you  will  say  you  are  too  tired.  There  ! 
will  you  tell  me  when  I  could  have  found  time  to 
lie  down  for  an  hour  to-day  ?  " 

I  was  constrained  to  laugh  at  my  wife's  recital, 
and  I  was  not  able  at  the  moment  to  point  out  to 
her  exactly  what  she  might  have  omitted  from 
her  category  so  as  to  make  room  for  the  hour  of 
repose.  Nor,  indeed,  as  I  review  the  events  of 
my  own  daily  life  and  of  the  daily  lives  of  my 

183 


The  Art  of  Living 


friends  and  acquaintances,  am  I  able  to  define 
precisely  where  it  could  be  brought  in.  And  yet 
are  we  not — many  of  us  who  are  in  the  thick  of 
modern  life — conscious  that  our  days  are,  as  it 
were,  congested?  We  feel  sure  that  so  far  as  our 
physical  comfort  is  concerned  we  ought  to  be  do 
ing  less,  and  we  shrewdly  suspect  that,  if  we  had 
more  time  in  which  to  think,  our  spiritual  natures 
would  be  the  gainers.  The  difficulty  is  to  stop, 
or  rather  to  reduce  the  speed  of  modern  living  to 
the  point  at  which  these  high-pressure  nervous 
symptoms  disappear,  and  the  days  cease  to  seem 
too  short  for  what  we  wish  to  accomplish.  Perhaps 
those  who  take  an  intense  interest  in  living  will 
never  be  able  to  regain  that  delightful  condition 
of  equipoise,  if  it  ever  existed,  which  our  ancestors 
both  here  and  across  the  water  are  said  to  have 
experienced.  Perhaps,  too,  our  ancestors  were 
more  in  a  hurry  when  they  were  alive  than  they 
seem  to  have  been  now  that  they  are  dead  ;  but, 
whether  this  be  true  or  otherwise,  we  are  confi 
dently  told  by  those  who  ought  to  know  that  we 
Americans  of  this  day  and  generation  are  the  most 
restless,  nervous  people  under  the  sun,  and  live  at 
a  higher  pressure  than  our  contemporaries  of  the 
effete  civilizations.  It  used  to  be  charged  that  we 
were  in  such  haste  to  grow  rich  that  there  was  no 
health  in  us ;  and  now  that  we  are,  or  soon  will 
be,  the  wealthiest  nation  in  the  world,  they  tell  us 

184 


The  Use  of  Time 


that  we  continue  to  maintain  the  same  feverish 
pace  in  all  that  we  undertake  or  do. 

I  am  not  sure  that  this  charge  could  not  be 
brought  against  the  Englishman,  Frenchman,  or 
German  of  to-day  with  almost  equal  justice,  or,  in 
other  words,  that  it  is  a  characteristic  of  the  age 


I  am  not  sure  that  this  charge  could   not  be   brought  against  the   Englishman, 
Frenchman,  or  German  of  to-day. 

rather  than  of  our  nation  ;  but  that  conviction 
would  merely  solace  our  pride  and  could  not  as 
suage  "  that  tired  feeling  "  of  which  so  many  are 
conscious.  At  all  events,  if  we  do  not  work  harder 
than  our  kinsmen  across  the  sea,  we  seem  to  bear 
the  strain  less  well.  It  may  be  the  climate,  as  my 
wife  has  said,  which  causes  our  nervous  systems  to 
rebel ;  but  then,  again,  we  cannot  change  the 

185 


The  Art  of  Living 


climate,  and  consequently  must  adapt  ourselves  to 
its  idiosyncrasies. 

Ever  since  we  first  began  to  declare  that  we 
were  superior  to  all  other  civilizations  we  have 
been  noted  for  our  energy.  The  way  in  which  we 
did  everything,  from  sawing  wood  to  electing  a 
President,  was  conspicuous  by  virtue  of  the 
bustling,  hustling  qualities  displayed.  But  it  is 
no  longer  high  treason  to  state  that  our  national 
life,  in  spite  of  its  bustle,  was,  until  comparatively 
recently,  lacking  in  color  and  variety.  The  citi 
zen  who  went  to  bed  on  -the  stroke  of  ten  every 
night  and  did  practically  the  same  things  each 
day  from  one  year's  end  to  the  other  was  the  ideal 
citizen  of  the  Republic,  and  was  popularly  de 
scribed  as  a  conservative  and  a  strong  man.  His 
life  was  led  within  very  repressed  limits,  and  any 
thing  more  artistic  than  a  chromo  or  religious 
motto  was  apt  to  irritate  him  and  shock  his  prin 
ciples.  To  be  sure,  we  had  then  our  cultivated 
class — more  narrowly  but  possibly  more  deeply 
cultivated  than  its  flourishing  successor  of  to-day 
-  but  the  average  American,  despite  his  civic 
virtues  and  consciousness  of  rectitude,  led  a 
humdrum  existence,  however  hustling  or  bustling. 
There  is  a  large  percentage  of  our  population  that 
continues  to  live  in  much  the  same  manner,  not 
withstanding  the  wave  of  enlightenment  which 
has  swept  over  the  country  and  keyed  us  all  up 


The  Use  of  Time 


to  concert  pitch  by  multiplying  the  number  of  our 
interests.  I  feel  a  little  guilty  in  having  included 
Rogers  among  this  number,  for  I  really  know  of 


The  citizen  who  went  to  bed  on  the  stroke  of  ten   every  night. 

my  own  knowledge  nothing  about  his  individual 
home  life.  It  may  be  that  I  have  been  doing  him 
a  rank  injustice,  and  that  his  home  is  in  reality  a 
seething  caldron  of  progress.  I  referred  to  him 
as  a  type  rather  than  as  an  individual,  knowing  as 
I  do  that  there  are  still  too  many  homes  in  this 
country  where  music,  art,  literature,  social  tastes, 
and  intelligent  interest  in  human  affairs  in  the  ab 
stract,  when  developed  beyond  mere  rudimentary 
lines,  are  unappreciated  and  regarded  as  vanities 
or  inanities. 

187 


The  Art  of  Living 


On  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  more  inter 
esting  in  our  present  national  evolution  than  the 
eager  recognition  by  the  intelligent  and  aspiring 
portion  of  the  people  that  we  have  been  and  are 
ignorant,  and  that  the  true  zest  of  life  lies  in  its 
many-sidedness  and  its  possibilities  of  develop 
ment  along  aesthetic,  social,  and  intellectual  as 
well  as  moral  lines.  The  United  States  to-day  is 
fairly  bristling  with  eager,  ambitious  students, 
and  with  people  of  both  sexes,  young  and  middle- 
aged,  who  are  anxiously  seeking  how  to  make  the 
most  of  life.  This  eagerness  of  soul  is  not  con 
fined  to  any  social  class,  and  is  noticeable  in  every 
section  of  the  country  in  greater  or  less  degree. 
It  is  quite  as  likely  to  be  found  among  people  of 
very  humble  means  as  among  those  whose  earli 
est  associations  have  brought  them  into  contact 
with  the  well-to-do  and  carefully  educated.  There 
fore  I  beg  the  pardon  of  Rogers  in  case  I  have 
put  him  individually  in  the  wrong  category.  A 
divine  yet  cheery  activity  has  largely  taken  the 
place  of  sodden  self-righteousness  on  the  one 
hand,  and  analytical  self-consciousness  on  the 
other.  The  class  is  not  as  yet  very  large  as  com 
pared  with  the  entire  population  of  the  country, 
but  it  is  growing  rapidly,  and  its  members  are 
the  most  interesting  men  and  women  of  the  Re 
public — those  who  are  in  the  van  of  our  develop 
ment  as  a  people. 


The  Use  of  Time 


Overcrowded  and  congested  lives  signify  at 
least  earnestness  and  absorption.  Human  nature 
is  more  likely  to  aspire  and  advance  when  society 
is  nervously  active,  than  when  it  is  bovine  and 
self-congratulatory.  But  nerves  can  endure  only  a 
certain  amount  of  strain  without  reminding  human 
beings  that  strong  and  healthy  bodies  are  essential 
to  true  national  progress.  Only  recently  in  this 
country  have  we  learned  to  consider  the  welfare 
of  the  body,  and  though  we  have  begun  to  be 
deadly  in  earnest  about  athletics,  the  present  gen 
eration  of  workers  were,  for  the  most  part,  brought 
up  on  the  theory  that  flesh  and  blood  was  a  limi 
tation  rather  than  a  prerequisite.  We  are  doing 
bravely  in  this  matter  so  far  as  the  education  ol 
our  children  is  concerned,  but  it  is  too  late  to  do 
much  for  our  own  nerves.  Though  stagnation  is 
a  more  deplorable  state,  it  behooves  us,  neverthe 
less,  if  possible,  to  rid  ourselves  of  congestion  for 
our  ultimate  safety. 

An  active  man  or  woman  stopping  to  think  in 
the  morning  may  well  be  appalled  at  the  variety 
of  his  or  her  life.  The  ubiquity  of  the  modern 
American  subconsciousness  is  something  unique. 
We  wish  to  know  everything  there  is  to  know. 
We  are  interested  not  merely  in  our  own  and  our 
neighbors'  affairs — with  a  knowledge  of  which  so 
many  citizens  of  other  lands  are  peacefully  con 
tented — but  we  are  eager  to  know,  and  to  know 

189 


The  Art  of  Living 


with  tolerable  accuracy,  what  is  going  on  all  over 
the  world — in  England,  China,  Russia,  and  Aus 
tralia.  Not  merely  politically,  but  socially,  artis 
tically,  scientifically,  philosophically,  and  ethically. 
No  subject  is  too  technical  for  our  interest,  pro 
vided  it  comes  in  our  way,  whether  it  concern 
the  canals  in  Mars  or  the  antitoxin  germ.  The 
newspaper  and  the  telegraph  have  done  much  to 
promote  this  ubiquity  of  the  mind's  eye  all  over 
the  world,  but  the  interests  of  the  average  Amer 
ican  are  much  wider  and  more  diversified  than 
those  of  any  other  people.  An  Englishman  will 
have  his  hobbies  and  know  them  thoroughly,  but 
regarding  affairs  beyond  the  pale  of  his  limited 
inquiry  he  is  deliberately  and  often  densely  igno 
rant.  He  reads,  and  reads  augustly,  one  newspa 
per,  one  or  two  magazines — a  few  books ;  we,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  not  content  unless  we  stretch 
out  feelers  in  many  directions  and  keep  posted,  as 
we  call  it,  by  hasty  perusals  of  almost  innumerable 
publications  for  fear  lest  something  escape  us. 
What  does  the  Frenchman — the  average  intelligent 
Frenchman — know  or  care  about  the  mode  of  our 
Presidential  elections,  and  whether  this  Republi 
can  or  that  Democrat  has  made  or  marred  his 
political  reputation  ?  We  feel  that  we  require  to 
inform  ourselves  not  only  concerning  the  art  and 
literature  of  France,  but  to  have  the  names  and 
doings  of  her  statesmen  at  our  fingers'  ends  for 


The  Use  of  Time 


use  in  polite  conversation,  and  the  satisfaction 
of  the  remains  of  the  New  England  conscience. 
All  this  is  highly  commendable,  if  it  does  not  tend 
to  render  us  superficial.  The  more  knowledge  we 
have,  the  better,  provided  we  do  not  fall  into  the 
slough  of  knowing  noth 
ing  very  well,  or  hunt  our 
wits  to  death  by  over- 
acquisitiveness.  There 
is  so  much  nowadays  to 
learn,  and  seemingly  so 
little  time  in  which  to 
learn  it,  we  cannot  afford 
to  spread  ourselves  too 
thin. 

The  energy  of  our  peo 
ple  has  always  been  con 
spicuous  in  the  case  of 
women.  The  American 
woman,  from  the  earli 
est  days  of  our  history, 
has  refused  to  be  pre 
vented  by  the  limitations  of  time  or  physique 
from  trying  to  include  the  entire  gamut  of  human 
feminine  activity  in  her  daily  experience.  There 
was  a  period  when  she  could  demonstrate  suc 
cessfully  her  ability  to  cook,  sweep,  rear  and 
educate  children,  darn  her  husband's  stockings, 
and  yet  entertain  delightfully,  dress  tastefully, 


When  she  could  demonstrate  success 
fully  her  ability  to  cook,  sweep,  .  .  . 
and  yet  entertain  delightfully. 


The  Art  of  Living 


and  be  well  versed  in  literature  and  all  the  cur 
rent  phases  of  high  thinking.  The  New  Eng 
land  woman  of  fifty  years  ago  was  certainly  an 
interesting  specimen  from  this  point  of  view,  in 
spite  of  her  morbid  conscience  and  polar  sexual 
proclivities.  But  among  the  well-to-do  women 
of  the  nation  to-day — the  women  who  correspond 
socially  to  those  just  described — this  achievement 
is  possible  only  by  taxing  the  human  system  to 
the  point  of  distress,  except  in  the  newly  or  thinly 
settled  portions  of  the  country,  where  the  style  of 
living  is  simple  and  primitive. 

In  the  East,  of  course,  in  the  cities  and  towns 
the  women  in  question  ceased  long  ago  to  do  all 
the  housework ;  and  among  the  well-to-do,  servants 
have  relieved  her  of  much,  if  not  of  all  the  physi 
cal  labor.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  complexi 
ties  of  our  modern  establishments,  and  the  worry 
which  her  domestics  cause  her,  make  the  burden 
of  her  responsibilities  fully  equal  to  what  they 
were  when  she  cooked  flap-jacks  and  darned 
stockings  herself.  In  other  countries  the  women 
conversant  with  literature,  art,  and  science,  who 
go  in  for  philanthropy,  photography,  or  the  or 
namentation  of  china,  who  write  papers  on  socio 
logical  or  educational  matters,  are,  for  the  most 
part,  women  of  leisure  in  other  respects.  The 
American  woman  is  the  only  woman  at  large  in 
the  universe  who  aims  to  be  the  wife  and  mother 

192 


The  Use  of  Time  * 


of  a  family,  the  mistress  of  an  establishment,  a 
solver  of  world  problems,  a  social  leader,  and  a 
philanthropist  or  artistic  devotee  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  Each  of  these  interests  has  its  deter 
mined  followers  among  the  women  of  other  civil 
izations,  but  nowhere  except  here  does  the  eternal 
feminine  seek  to  manifest  itself  in  so  many  direc 
tions  in  the  same  individual. 

This  characteristic  of  our  womanhood  is  a  virtue 
up  to  a  certain  point.  The  American  woman  has 
certainly  impressed  her  theory  that  her  sex  should 
cease  to  be  merely  pliant,  credulous,  and  igno- 
rantly  complacent  so  forcibly  on  the  world  that 
society  everywhere  has  been  affected  by  it.  Her 
desire  to  make  the  most  of  herself,  and  to  partici 
pate  as  completely  as  possible  in  the  vital  work  of 
the  world  without  neglecting  the  duties  allotted 
to  her  by  the  older  civilizations,  is  in  the  line  of 
desirable  evolution.  But  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
being  superficial,  which  is  far  more  to  be  dreaded 
than  even  nervous  prostration.  Those  absorbed 
in  the  earnest  struggle  of  modern  living  may  per 
haps  justly  claim  that  to  work  until  one  drops  is  a 
noble  fault,  and  that  disregard  of  one's  own  sensa 
tions  and  comfort  is  almost  indispensable  in  order 
to  accomplish  ever  so  little.  But  there  is  nothing 
noble  in  superficiality ;  and  it  would  seem  that 
the  constant  flitting  from  one  interest  to  another, 
which  so  many  American  women  seem  unable  to 


*The  Art  of  Living 


avoid,  must  necessarily  tend  to  prevent  them  from 
knowing  or  doing  anything  thoroughly. 

As  regards  the  creature  man,  the  critics  of  this 
country  have  been  accustomed  to  assert  that  he 
was  so  much  absorbed  in  making  money,  or  in 
business,  as  our  popular  phrase  is,  that  he  had  no 
time  for  anything  else. 
This  accusation  used  to  J 
be  extraordinarily  true, 


and  in  certain  parts 
of  the  country  it 
has  not  altogether 


Regards  wistfully  and  proudly  the  aesthetic  pro-      CCaSCd     tO     be 
pensities  of  the  female  members  of  his  family. 

though    even  there 

the-  persistent  masculine  dollar -hunter  regards 
wistfully  and  proudly  the  aesthetic  propensities  of 
the  female  members  of  his  family,  and  feels  that  his 
labors  are  sweetened  thereby.  This  is  a  very  dif 
ferent  attitude  from  the  self-sufficiency  of  half  a 
century  ago.  The  difficulty  now  is  that  our  intel- 


The  Use  of  Time 


ligent  men,  like  our  women,  are  apt  to  attempt  too 
much,  inclined  to  crowd  into  each  and  every  day 
more  sensations  than  they  can  assimilate.  An 
Englishwoman,  prominent  in  educational  matters, 
and  intelligent  withal,  recently  expressed  her  sur 
prise  to  my  wife,  Barbara,  that  the  American  gen 
tleman  existed.  She  had  been  long  familiar  with 
the  American  woman  as  a  charming,  if  original, 
native  product,  but  she  had  never  heard  of  the 
American  gentleman — meaning  thereby  the  alert, 
thoughtful  man  of  high  purposes  and  good-breed 
ing.  "  How  many  there  are ! "  the  Briton  went 
on  to  say  in  the  enthusiasm  of  her  surprise.  In 
deed  there  are.  The  men  prominent  in  the  lead 
ing  walks  of  life  all  over  this  country  now  com 
pare  favorably,  at  least,  with  the  best  of  other 
nations,  unless  it  be  that  our  intense  desire  to 
know  everything  has  rendered,  or  may  render,  us 
accomplished  rather  than  profound. 


II 


AFTER  all,  whether  this  suggestion  of  a  ten 
dency  toward  superficiality  be  well  founded  or 
not,  the  proper  use  of  time  has  come  to  be  a  more 
serious  problem  than  ever  for  the  entire  world. 
The  demands  of  modern  living  are  so  exacting 
that  men  and  women  everywhere  must  exercise 


The  Art  of  Living 


deliberate  selection  in  order  to  live  wisely.  To 
lay  down  general  rules  for  the  use  of  time  would 
be  as  futile  as  to  insist  that  everyone  should  use 
coats  of  the  same  size  and  color,  and  eat  the  same 
kind  and  quantity  of  food.  The  best  modern  liv 
ing  may  perhaps  be  correctly  denned  as  a  happy 
compromise  in  the  aims  and  actions  of  the  indi 
vidual  between  self-interest  and  altruism. 

If  one  seeks  to  illustrate  this  definition  by  ex 
ample  it  is  desirable  in  the  first  place  to  eliminate 
the  individuals  in  the  community  whose  use  of 
time  is  so  completely  out  of  keeping  with  this 
doctrine  that  it  is  not  worth  while  to  consider 
them.  Murderers,  forgers,  and  criminals  of  all 
kinds,  including  business  men  who  practise  petty 
thefts,  and  respectable  tradesmen  who  give  short 
weight  and  overcharge,  instinctively  occur  to  us. 
So  do  mere  pleasure-seekers,  drunkards,  and  idle 
gentlemen.  On  the  same  theory  we  must  exclude 
monks,  deliberate  celibates,  nuns,  and  all  fanatical 
or  eccentric  persons  whose  conduct  of  life,  how 
ever  serviceable  in  itself  as  a  leaven  or  an  excep 
tion,  could  not  be  generally  imitated  without  dis 
aster  to  society.  It  would  seem  also  as  though 
we  must  exclude  those  who  have  yet  to  acquire 
such  elemental  virtues  of  wise  living  as  cleanli 
ness,  reverence  for  the  beautiful,  and  a  certain 
amount  of  altruism.  There  is  nothing  to  learn  as 
to  the  wise  use  of  time  from  those  whose  concep- 

196 


The  Use  of  Time 


tions  of  life  are  handicapped  by  the  habitual  use 
of  slang  and  bad  grammar  and  by  untidiness; 
who  regard  the  manifestations  of  good  taste  and 
fine  scholarship  as  "  frills,"  and  who,  though  they 
be  unselfish  in  the  bosoms  of  their  families,  take 
no  interest  in  the  general  welfare  of  the  com 
munity. 

Let  me  in  this  last  connection  anticipate  the 
criticism  of  the  sentimentalist  and  of  the  free- 
born  American  who  wears  a  chip  on  his  shoulder, 
by  stating  that  time  may  be  as  beautifully  and 
wisely  spent,  and  life  be  as  noble  and  serviceable 
to  humanity  in  the  home  of  the  humblest  citizen 
as  in  that  of  the  well-to-do  or  rich.  Of  course  it 
may.  Who  questions  it  ?  Did  I  not,  in  order 
not  even  to  seem  to  doubt  it,  take  back  all  I  haz 
arded  about  the  manner  in  which  Rogers  spends 
his  time  ?  It  may  be  just  as  beautifully  and 
wisely  spent,  and  very  often  is  so.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  suggest,  timorously  and  respect 
fully,  that  it  very  often  is  not,  and  I  venture 
further  to  ask  whether  the  burden  is  not  on 
democracy  to  show  that  the  plain  life  of  the  plain 
people  as  at  present  conducted  is  a  valuable  ex 
ample  of  wise  and  improving  use  of  time  ?  The 
future  is  to  account  for  itself,  and  we  all  have 
faith  in  democracy.  We  are  all  plain  people  in 
this  country.  But  just  as  a  passing  inquiry,  ut 
tered  not  under  my  breath,  yet  without  levity  or 


The  Art  of  Living 


malice,  whfct  is  the  contribution  so  far  made  by 
plainness  as  plainness  to  the  best  progress  of  the 
world  ?  Absolutely  nothing,  it  seems  to  me. 
Progress  has  come  from  the  supe 
riority  of  individuals  in  every  class 
of  life  to  the  mass  of  their  con 
temporaries.  The  so-called 
plainness  of  the  plain 
people  too  often 
serves  at  the 
present  day 
as  an  in 


fluence 

to  drag  down 
the  aspiring  indi 
vidual  to  the  dead  level 
of  the  mass  which  con 
tents  itself  with  bombas 
tic  cheapness  of  thought, 
and  action.  This  is  no  plea  against  democracy, 
for  democracy  has  come  to  stay  ;  but  it  is  an  ar 
gument  why  the  best  standards  of  living  are  more 
likely  to  be  found  among  those  who  do  not  con- 

198 


Democracy  has  come  to  stay. 


The  Use  of  Time 


gratulate  themselves  on  their  plainness  than  those 
who  are  content  to  live  no  better  and  no  worse 
than  their  neighbors.  Discontent  with  self  is  a 
valuable  Mentor  in  the  apportionment  of  time. 

Therefore  I  offer  as  the  most  valuable  study  in 
the  use  of  time  under  modern  conditions  the  men 
and  women  in  our  large  cities  who  are  so  far 
evolved  that  they  are  not  tempted  to  commit  com 
mon  crimes,  are  well  educated,  earnest  and  pleas 
ing,  and  are  keenly  desirous  to  effect  in  their  daily 
lives  that  happy  compromise  between  self-interest 
and  altruism  to  which  I  have  referred  as  the  goal 
of  success  in  the  use  of  time.  Let  us  consider 
them  from  the  point  of  every  day  in  the  week  and 
of  the  four  seasons.  In  every  man's  life  his  occu 
pation,  the  calling  or  profession  by  which  he  earns 
his  bread,  must  necessarily  be  the  chief  consumer 
of  his  time.  We  Americans  have  never  been  an 
idle  race,  and  it  is  rare  that  the  father  of  a  family 
exposes  himself  to  the  charge  of  sloth.  His  work 
may  be  unintelligent  or  bungling,  but  he  almost 
invariably  spends  rather  too  much  than  too  little 
time  over  it.  If  you  ask  him  why,  he  says  he 
cannot  help  it ;  that  in  order  to  get  on  he  must 
toil  early  and  late.  If  he  is  successful,  he  tells 
you  that  otherwise  he  cannot  attend  to  all  he  has 
to  do.  There  is  plausibility  in  this.  Competition 
is  undoubtedly  so  fierce  that  only  those  who  de 
vote  themselves  heart  and  soul  to  any  calling  are 

199 


The  Art  of  Living 


likely  to  succeed.  Moreover,  the  consciousness 
of  success  is  so  engrossing  and  inspiriting  that 
one  may  easily  be  tempted  to  sacrifice  everything 
else  to  the  game. 

But  can  it  be  doubted,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  man  who  refuses  to  become  the  complete 
slave  either  of  endeavor  or  success  is  a  better 
citizen  than  he  who  does?  The  chief  sinners  in 
this  respect  in  our  modern  life  are  the  success 
ful  men,  those  who  are  in  the  thick  of  life  doing 
reasonably  well.  The  man  who  has  not  arrived, 
or  who  is  beginning,  must  necessarily  have  leis 
ure  for  other  things  for  the  reason  that  his  time 
is  not  fully  employed,  but  the  really  busy  worker 
must  make  an  effort  or  he  is  lost.  If  he  does 
not  put  his  foot  down  and  determine  what  else 
he  will  do  beside  pursuing  his  vocation  every  day 
in  the  year  except  Sunday,  and  often  on  Sunday 
to  boot,  he  may  be  robust  enough  to  escape  a 
premature  grave,  but  he  will  certainly  not  make 
the  best  use  of  his  life. 

The  difficulty  for  such  men,  of  course,  is  to  se 
lect  what  they  will  do.  There  are  so  many  things, 
that  it  is  easy  to  understand  why  the  mind  which 
abhors  superficiality  should  be  tempted  to  shut 
its  ears  out  of  sheer  desperation  to  every  other 
interest  but  business  or  profession.  If  every  one 
were  to  do  that  what  would  be  the  result  ?  Our 
leading  men  would  simply  be  a  horde  of  self- 


The  Use  of  Time 

seekers,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  their  individual 
work  in  their  several  callings  were  conscientious 
and  unsparing  of  self.  Deplorable  as  a  too  great 
multiplicity  of  interests  is  apt  to  be  to  the  welfare 
and  advancement  of  an  ambitious  man,  the  motive 
which  prompts  him  to  endeavor  to  do  many 
things  is  in  reality  a  more  noble  one,  and  one 
more  beneficial  to  society  than  absorption  to  ex 
cess  in  a  vocation.  The  cardinal  principle  in  the 
wise  use  of  time  is  to  discover  what  one  can  do 
without  and  to  select  accordingly.  Man's  duty 
to  his  spiritual  nature,  to  his  aesthetic  nature,  to 
his  family,  to  public  affairs,  and  to  his  social 
nature,  are  no  less  imperative  than  his  duty  to 
his  daily  calling.  Unless  each  of  these  is  in  some 
measure  catered  to,  man  falls  short  in  his  true 
obligations.  Not  one  of  them  can  be  neglected. 
Some  men  think  they  can  lighten  the  load  to 
advantage  by  disregarding  their  religious  side. 
Others  congratulate  themselves  that  they  never 
read  novels  or  poetry,  and  speak  disrespectfully 
of  the  works  of  new  schools  of  art  as  daubs.  A 
still  larger  number  shirks  attention  to  political 
and  social  problems,  and  declares  bluffly  that  if  a 
man  votes  twice  a  year  and  goes  to  a  caucus, 
when  he  is  sent  for  in  a  carriage  by  the  commit 
tee,  it  is  all  that  can  be  expected  of  a  busy  man. 
Another  large  contingent  swathes  itself  in  grace 
less  virtue,  and  professes  to  thank  God  that  it 


The  Art  of  Living 


keeps  aloof  from  society  people  and  their  doings. 

Then  we  are  all  familiar  with  the  man  who  has 

no  time  to  know  his 
own  family,  though, 
fortunately,  he  is  less 
common  than  he  used 
to  be. 

If  I  were  asked  to 
select  what  one  influ 
ence  more  than  another 
wastes  the  spare  time 
of  the  modern  man,  1 
should  be  inclined  to 
specify  the  reading  of 
newspapers.  The  value 
of  the  modern  daily 
newspaper  as  a  short  cut 
to  knowledge  of  what  is 

The  man  who  has  no  time  to  know  his      actually      happening      ill 
own  family.  i  •        i  • 

two  hemispheres  is  in 
disputable,  provided  it  is  read  regularly  so  that 
one  can  eliminate  from  the  consciousness  those 
facts  which  are  contradicted  or  qualified  on  the 
following  day.  Of  course  it  is  indispensable  to 
read  the  morning,  and  perhaps  the  evening,  news 
paper  in  order  to  know  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world.  But  the  persistent  reading  of  many  news 
papers,  or  the  whole  of  almost  any  newspaper,  is 
nearly  as  detrimental  to  the  economy  of  time  as 


The  Use  of  Time 


the  cigarette  habit  to  health.  Fifteen  minutes  a 
day  is  ample  time  in  which  to  glean  the  news,  and 
the  busy  man  who  aspires  to  use  his  time  to  the 
best  advantage  may  well  skip  the  rest.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  many  of  our  newspapers  contain 
some  of  the  best  thought  of  the 
day  scattered  through  their  ency 
clopaedic  columns ;  but  there  is 
still  less  doubt  that  they  are  con 
ducted  to  please,  first  of  all,  those 
who  otherwise  would  read  noth 
ing.  From  this 
point  of  view 
they  are  most 
valuable  educa 
tors;  moreover, 
the  character  of 
the  newspaper 
is  steadily  im 
proving,  and  it 
is  evident  that  those  in 
charge  of  the  best  of 
them  are  seeking  to  raise 
the  public  taste  instead 
of  writing  down  to  it ; 
but  the  fact  remains  that 
they  at  present  contain 
comparatively  little  which  the  earnest  man  can 
afford  to  linger  over  if  he  would  avoid  mental 


Of  course  it  is  indispensable  to  read 
the  morning,  and  perhaps  the  even 
ing,  newspaper. 


The  Art  of  Living 


dissipation  of  an  insidious  kind.  A  newspaper 
containing  only  the  news  and  the  really  vital 
thought  of  the  day  compressed  into  short  space  is 
among  the  successful  enterprises  of  the  future 
which  some  genius  will  perpetuate.  How  many 
of  us,  already,  weary  of  the  social  gossip,  the 
sensational  personalities,  the  nauseous  details  of 
crime,  the  custom-made  articles,  the  Sunday  spe 
cial  features,  the  ubiquitous  portrait,  and  finally 
the  colored  cartoon,  would  write  our  names  large 
on  such  a  subscription-list ! 

In  the  matter  of  books,  too,  the  modern  man 
and  woman  may  well  exercise  a  determined 
choice.  There  is  so  much  printed  nowadays  be 
tween  ornamental  covers,  that  any  one  is  liable  to 
be  misled  by  sheer  bewilderment,  and  deliberate 
selection  is  necessary  to  save  us  from  being  men 
tally  starved  with  plenty.  We  cannot  always  be 
reading  to  acquire  positive  knowledge  ;  entertain 
ment  and  self-oblivion  are  quite  as  legitimate  mo 
tives  for  the  hard  worker  as  meditated  self-im- 
.provement ;  but  whether  we  read  philosophy  and 
history,  or  the  novel,  the  poem,  and  the  essay,  it 
behooves  us  to  read  the  best  of  its  kind.  From 
this  stand-point  the  average  book  club  is  almost  a 
positive  curse.  A  weekly  quota  of  books  appears 
on  our  library  tables,  to  be  devoured  in  seven 
days.  We  read  them  because  they  come  to  us  by 

lot,  not  because  we  have  chosen  them  ourselves. 

204 


The  Use  of  Time 


There  is  published  in  every  year  of  this  publish 
ing  age  a  certain  number  of  books  of  positive 
merit  in  the  various  departments  of  literature  and 
thought,  which  a  little  intelligent  inquiry  would 
enable  us  to  discover.  By  reading  fewer  books, 
and  making  sure  that  the  serious  ones  were  sound 
and  the  light  or  clever  ones  really  diverting,  the 
modern  man  and  woman  would  be  gainers  both 
in  time  and  approbation. 

In  this  connection  tet  me  head  off  again  the  sen 
timentalist  and  moralist  by  noting  that  old  friends 
in  literature  are  often  more  satisfying  and  engag 
ing  than  new.  Those  of  us  who  are  in  the  thick 
of  life  are  too  apt  to  forget  to  take  down  from  our 
shelves  the  comrades  we  loved  when  we  were 
twenty-one — the  essayists,  the  historians,  the  poets, 
and  novelists  whose  delightful  pages  are  the  lit 
erature  of  the  world.  An  evening  at  home  with 
Shakespeare  is  not  the  depressing  experience 
which  some  clever  people  imagine.  One  rises 
from  the  feast  to  go  to  bed  with  all  one's  aesthetic 
being  refreshed  and  fortified  as  though  one  had 
inhaled  oxygen.  What  a  contrast  this  to  the 
stuffy  taste  in  the  roof  of  the  mouth,  and  the 
weary,  dejected  frame  of  mind  which  follow  the 
perusal  of  much  of  the  current  literature  which 
cozening  booksellers  have  induced  the  book  club 
secretary  to  buy. 

A  very  little  newspaper  reading  and  a  limited 


The  Art  of  Living 


amount  of  selected  reading  will  leave  time  for  the 
hobby  or  avocation.  Every  man  or  woman  ought 
to  have  one ;  something  apart  from  business,  pro 
fession,  or  housekeeping,  in  which  he  or  she  is  in 
terested  as  a  study  or  pursuit.  In  this  age  of  the 
world  it  may  well  take  the  form  of  educational, 
economic,  or  philanthropic  investigation,  or  co 
operation,  if  individual  tastes  happen  to  incline 
one  to  such  work.  The  prominence  of  such  mat 
ters  in  our  present  civilization  is,  of  course,  a  mag 
net  favorable  to  such  a  choice.  In  this  way  one 
can,  as  it  were,  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone,  de 
velop  one's  own  resources  and  perform  one's  duty 
toward  the  public.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
will  be  many  who  have  no  sense  of  fitness  for  this 
service,  and  whose  predilections  lead  them  toward 
art,  science,  literature,  or  some  of  their  ramifica 
tions.  The  amateur  photographer,  the  extender 
of  books,  the  observer  of  birds,  are  alike  among 
the  faithful.  To  have  one  hobby  and  not  three  or 
four,  and  to  persevere  slowly  but  steadily  in  the 
fulfilment  of  one's  selection,  is  an  important  factor 
in  the  wise  disposal  of  time.  It  is  a  truism  to  de 
clare  that  a  few  minutes  in  every  day  allotted  to 
the  same  piece  of  work  will  accomplish  wonders ; 
but  the  result  of  trying  will  convince  the  incredu 
lous.  Indeed  one's  avocation  should  progress 
and  prevail  by  force  of  spare  minutes  allotted 
daily  and  continuously  ;  just  so  much  and  no  more, 
.  206 


The  Use  of  Time 


so  as  not  to  crowd  out  the  other  claimants  for 
consideration.  Fifteen  minutes  before  breakfast, 
or  between  kissing  the  children  good-night  and 
the  evening  meal,  or  even  every  other  Saturday 
afternoon  and  a  part  of  every  holiday,  will  make 


The  .amateur  photographer. 

one's  hobby  look  well-fed  and  sleek  at  the  end  of 
a  few  years. 

Perhaps  the  most  difficult  side  of  one's  nature 
to  provide  for  adequately  is  the  social  side.  It  is 
easy  enough  to  make  a  hermit  of  one's  self  and  go 
nowhere ;  and  it  is  easy  enough  to  let  one's  self 
be  sucked  into  the  vortex  of  endless  social  recrea 
tion  until  one's  sensations  become  akin  to  those  of 
a  highly  varnished  humming-top.  I  am  not  quite 
sure  which  is  the  worse ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  be- 


The  Art  of  Living 


lieve  that  the  hermit,  especially  if  self-righteous, 
is  more  detestable  in  that  he  is  less  altruistic.  He 
may  be  a  more  superior  person  than  the  gadfly  of 
society,  but  ethics  no  longer  sanctions  self-culti 
vation  purely  for  the  benefit  of  self.  Every  man 
and  woman  who  seeks  to  play  an  intelligent  part 
in  the  world  ought  to  manage  to  dine  out  and  at 
tend  other  social  functions  every  now  and  then, 
even  if  it  be  necessary  to  bid  for  invitations. 
Most  of  us  have  more  invitations  than  we  can  pos 
sibly  accept,  and  find  the  problem  of  entertaining 
and  being  entertained  an  exceedingly  perplexing 
one  to  solve  from  the  stand-point  of  time.  But  in 
spite  of  the  social  proclivities  of  most  of  us,  there 
are  still  many  people  who  feel  that  they  are  ful 
filling  their  complete  duty  as  members  of  society 
if  they  live  lives  of  strict  rectitude  far  from  the 
madding  crowd  of  so-called  society  people,  and 
never  darken  the  doors  of  anybody.  It  is  said 
that  it  takes  all  sorts  of  people  to  make  up  the 
world,  but  disciplinarians  and  spoil-sports  of  this 
sort  are  so  tiresome  that  they  would  not  be  missed 
were  they  and  their  homilies  to  be  translated  pre 
maturely  to  another  sphere. 

Those  of  us,  however,  who  profess  a  contrary 
faith,  experience  difficulty  at  times  in  being  true 
to  it,  and  are  often  tempted  to  slip  back  into  do 
mestic  isolation  by  the  feverishness  of  our  social 
life.  It  sometimes  seems  as  though  there  were  no 

208 


The  Use  of  Time 


middle  way  between  being  a  humming-top  and  a 
hermit.  Yet  nothing  is  more  fatal  to  the  wise  use 
of  time  than  the  acceptance  of  every  invitation  re 
ceived,  unless  it  be  the  refusal  of  every  one.  Here 
again  moderation  and  choice  are  the  only  safe 
guards,  in  spite  of  the  assurance  of  friends  that  it 
is  necessary  to  go  a  great  deal  in  order  to  enjoy 
one's  self.  In  our  cities  the  bulk  of  the  entertain 
ments  of  the  year  happen  in  the  four  winter 
months  ;  from  which  many  far  from  frivolous  per 
sons  argue  that  the  only  way  is  to  dine  out  every 
night,  and  go  to  everything  to  which  one  is  asked 
during  this  period,  and  make  up  between  April 
1 5th  and  December  i5th  for  any  arrears  due  the 
other  demands  of  one's  nature.  This  is  plausible, 
but  a  dangerous  theory,  if  carried  to  excess.  Wise 
living  consists  in  living  wisely  from  day  to  day, 
without  excepting  any  season.  Three  evenings 
in  a  week  spent  away  from  one's  own  fireside  may 
not  be  an  easy  limit  for  some  whose  social  interests 
are  varied,  but  both  the  married  and  the  single 
who  regret  politely  in  order  to  remain  tranquilly 
at  home  four  evenings  out  of  seven,  need  not  fear 
that  they  have  neglected  the  social  side  of  life 
even  in  the  gayest  of  seasons. 

And  here,  for  the  sake  of  our  sometimes  dense 
friend  the  moralist — especially  the  moralist  of  the 
press,  who  raves  against  society  people  from  the 
virtuous  limit  of  an  occasional  afternoon  tea — let 


The  Art  of  Living 


me  add  that  by  entertainments  and  recreation  I 
intend  to  include  not  merely  formal  balls  and  din 
ner-parties,  but  all  the  forms  of  more  or  less  inno 
cent  edification  and  diversion — teas,  reform  meet 
ings,  theatres,  receptions,  concerts,  lectures,  clubs, 
sociables,  fairs,  and  tableaux,  by  which  people  all 
over  the  country  are  brought  together  to  ex 
change  ideas  and  opinions  in  good-humored  fel 
lowship. 

In  the  apportionment  of  time  the  consideration 
of  one's  physical  health  is  a  paramount  necessity, 
not  merely  for  a  reasonably  long  life,  but  to  tem 
per  the  mind's  eye  so  that  the  point  of  view  re 
main  sane  and  wholesome.  An  overwrought  ner 
vous  system  may  be  capable  of  spasmodic  spurts, 
but  sustained  useful  work  is  impossible  under 
such  conditions.  To  die  in  harness  before  one's 
time  may  be  fine,  and  in  exceptional  cases  un 
avoidable,  but  how  much  better  to  live  in  harness 
and  do  the  work  which  one  has  undertaken  with 
out  breaking  down.  Happily  the  young  men  and 
women  of  the  country  of  the  present  generation 
may  almost  be  said  to  have  athletics  and  fresh  air 
on  the  brain.  What  with  opportunity  and  precept 
they  can  scarcely  help  living  up  to  the  mark  in 
this  respect.  The  grown-up  men  and  women,  ab 
sorbed  in  the  struggle  of  life,  are  the  people  who 
need  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  upon  themselves.  It 
is  so  easy  to  let  the  hour's  fresh  air  and  exercise 


The  Use  of  Time 


be  crowded  out  by  the  things  which  one  feels 
bound  to  do  for  the  sake  of  others,  and  hence  for 
one's  immortal  soul.  We  argue  that  it  will  not 
matter  if  we  omit  our  walk  or  rest  for  a  day  or 
two,  and  so  we  go  on  from  day  to  day,  until  we 
are  brought  up  with  a  round  turn, 
as  the  saying  is,  and  realize,  in  case 
we  are  still  alive,  that  we  are 
chronic  invalids.  The  walk, 
ride,  the  drive,  the  yacht, 
the  bicycle,  the  search 


the 


for  wild  flow 
ers  and  birds, 
the  angler's 
outing,  the  ex 
cursion  with  a  cam 
era,  the  deliberate 
open-air  breathing 
spell  on  the  front  plat 
form  of  a  street-car,  some  one  of  these  is  within 
the  means  and  opportunities  of  every  busy  work 
er,  male  or  female. 

For  many  of  us  the  most  begrudged  undertak 
ing  of  all  is  to  find  time  for  what  we  owe  to  the 


The  angler's  outing. 


The  Art  of  Living 


world  at  large  or  the  State,  the  State  with  a 
capital  S,  as  it  is  written  nowadays.  There  is  no 
money  in  such  bestowals,  no  private  gain  or 
emolument.  What  we  give  we  give  as  a  tribute 
to  pure  altruism,  or,  in  other  words,  because  as 
men  and  women  we  feel  that  it  is  one  of  the  most 
important  elements  in  wise  living.  It  is  indisput 
able  that  there  was  never  so  much  disinterested 
endeavor  in  behalf  of  the  community  at  large  as 
there  is  to-day,  but  at  the  same  time  it  is  true  that 
the  agitations  and  work  are  accomplished  by  a 
comparatively  small  number  of  people.  There 
are  probably  among  the  intelligent,  aspiring  por 
tion  of  the  population  at  least  five  persons  who 
intend  to  interest  themselves  in  public  affairs,  and 
regard  doing  so  as  essential  to  a  useful  life,  to 
every  one  who  puts  his  theories  into  practice. 
No  man  or  woman  can  do  everything.  We  can 
not  as  individuals  at  one  and  the  same  time  busy 
ourselves  successfully  in  education,  philanthropy, 
political  reform,  and  economic  science.  But  if 
every  one  would  take  an  active,  earnest  concern 
in  something,  in  some  one  thing,  and  look  into  it 
slowly  but  thoroughly,  this  man  or  woman  in  the 
public  schools,  this  in  the  methods  of  municipal 
government,  and  this  in  the  problems  of  crime  or 
poverty,  reforms  would  necessarily  proceed  much 
faster.  Just  a  little  work  every  other  day  or 
every  week.  Let  it  be  your  hobby  if  you  will,  if 


The  Use  of  Time 


you  have  no  time  for  a  hobby  too.  If  five  thou 
sand  men  in  every  large  city  should  take  an  active 
interest  in  and  give  a  small  amount  01  time  in 
every  week  to  the  school  question,  we  should  soon 
have  excellent  public  schools;  if  another  five 
thousand  would  devote  themselves  to  the  affairs 
of  municipal  government  in  a  similar  fashion, 
would  there  be  so  much  corruption  as  at  present, 
and  would  so  inferior  a  class  of  citizens  be  chosen 
to  be  aldermen  and  to  fill  the  other  city  offices? 
And  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  Is  not 
something  of  the  kind  the  duty  of  every  earnest 
man  and  woman?  Let  those  who  boast  of  being 
plain  people  put  this  into  their  pipes  and  smoke 
it.  When  the  self-styled  working-classes  are  pro 
hibited  by  law  from  working  more  than  eight 
hours,  will  they  contribute  of  their  spare  time  to 
help  those  who  are  trying  to  help  them  ? 

American  men  have  the  reputation  of  being 
considerate  husbands  and  indulgent  fathers;  but 
they  have  been  apt  at  all  events,  until  recently,  to 
make  permission  to  spend  take  the  place  of  per 
sonal  comradeship.  This  has  been  involuntarily 
and  regretfully  ascribed  to  business  pressure  ;  but 
fatalistic  remorse  is  a  poor  substitute  for  duty, 
even  though  the  loved  ones  eat  off  gold  plate  and 
ride  in  their  own  carriages  as  a  consequence.  We 
Americans  who  have  begotten  children  in  the  last 
twenty  years  do  not  need  to  be  informed  that  the 

213 


The  Art  of  Living 


time  given  to  the  society  of  one's  wife  and  family 
is  the  most  precious  expenditure  of  all,  both  for 
their  sakes  and  our  own.  But  though  the  truth  is 

obvious  to  us,  are  we  not 
sometimes  conscious  at  the 
end  of  the  week  that  the 
time  due  us  and  them  has 
been  squandered  or  other 
wise  appropriated  ?     Those 
walks  and  talks,  those  pleas 
ant    excursions    from 
city    to    country,    or 
country  to  city,  those 
quiet    afternoons     or 
evenings  at   home, 

which  are  possible 
T-  , 

•  i       to  every  man  and 

American  men  have  the   reputation  of  being  con-     WOman     WHO 
siderate   husbands  and   indulgent  fathers. 


their  children,  are  among  the  most  valuable  aids 
to  wise  living  and  peace  of  mind  which  daily 
existence  affords.  Intimacy  and  warm  sympathy, 
precept  and  loving  companionship,  are  worth 
all  the  indulgent  permission  and  unexpected 
cheques  in  the  world.  Some  people,  when  Sun 
day  or  a  holiday  comes,  seem  to  do  their  best  to 
get  rid  of  their  families  and  to  try  to  amuse  them 
selves  apart  from  them.  Such  men  and  women 
are  shutting  out  from  their  lives  the  purest  oxy- 


The  Use  of  Time 


gen  which  civilization  affords ;  for  genuine  com 
radeship  of  husband  and  wife,  and  father  or 
mother  and  child,  purges  the  soul  and  tends  to 
clear  the  mind's  eye  more  truly 
than  any  other  influence. 

-,M 


— 4T~>  ".- 

-•*•  4* 

7 


» 


Those  pleasant  excursions  from  city  to 
country. 


Lastly  and  firstly,  and 
in  close  compact  with 
sweet  domesticity  and 
faithful  friendship, 
stand  the  spiritual  de 
mands  of  our  natures. 
We  must  have  time  to 
think  and  meditate.  Just  as  the  flowers  need 
the  darkness  and  the  refreshing  dew,  the  human 
soul  requires  its  quiet  hours,  its  season  for  med 
itation  and  rest.  Whatever  we  may  believe,  what 
ever  doubts  we  may  entertain  regarding  the  mys 
teries  of  the  universe,  who  will  maintain  that 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  aspiring  side  of  man  is  a  delusion  and  an 
unreality?  In  the  time — often  merely  minutes — 
which  we  give  to  contemplation  and  serious  re 
view  of  what  we  are  doing,  lies  the  secret  of  the 
wise  plan,  if  not  the  execution.  To  go  on  helter- 
skelter  from  day  to  day  without  a  purpose  in  our 
hearts  resembles  playing  a  hurdy-gurdy  for  a 
living  without  the  hope  of  pence.  The  use  of 
Sunday  in  this  country  has  changed  so  radically 
in  the  last  twenty-five  years  that  everyone  is  free 
to  spend  it  as  he  will,  subject  to  certain  restric 
tions  as  to  sport  and  entertainment  in  public  cal 
culated  to  offend  those  who  would  prefer  stricter 
usages.  But  whether  we  choose  to  go  to  church 
or  not,  whether  our  aspirations  are  fostered  in  the 
sanctuary  or  the  fresh  air,  the  eternal  needs  of  the 
soul  must  be  provided  for.  If  we  give  our  spare 
hours  and  minutes  merely  to  careless  amusement, 
we  cannot  fail  to  degenerate  in  nobility  of  nature, 
just  as  we  lose  the  hue  of  health  when  we  sully 
the  red  corpuscles  of  the  body  with  foul  air  and 
steam  heat.  Are  we  not  nowadays,  even  the  plain 
people,  God  bless  them,  too  much  disposed  to  be 
lieve-that  merely  to  be  comfortable  and  amused 
and  rested  is  the  sole  requirement  of  the  human 
soul  ?  It  does  need  rest  most  of  the  time  in  this 
age  of  pressure,  heaven  knows,  and  comfort  and 
amusement  are  necessary.  But  may  we  not,  even 
while  we  rest  and  are  comfortable,  under  the  blue 

216 


The  Use  of  Time 


sky  or  on  the  peaceful  river,  if  you  will,  lift  up 
our  spirits  to  the  mystery  of  the  ages,  and  reach 
out  once  more  toward  the  eternal  truths?  Merely 
to  be  comfortable  and  to  get  rested  once  a  week 
will  not  bring  those  truths  nearer.  May  we  not, 
in  the  pride  of  our  democracy,  afford  to  turn  our 
glances  back  to  the  pages  of  history,  to  the  long 
line  of  mighty  men  kneeling  before  the  altar  with 
their  eyes  turned  up  to  God,  and  the  prayer  of 
faith  and  repentance  on  their  lips?  Did  this  all 
mean  nothing  ?  Are  we  so  wise  and  certain  and 
far-seeing  that  we  need  not  do  likewise  ? 


THE    SUMMER    PROBLEM 


WHAT  is  the  good  American  to  do  with  him 
self  or  herself  in  summer?  The  busiest 
worker  nowadays  admits  that  a  vacation  of  a  fort 
night  in  hot  weather  is  at  least  desirable.  Philan 
thropy  sends  yearly  more  and  more  children  on 
an  outing  in  August,  as  one  of  the  best  contribu 
tions  to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  the  poor. 
The  atmosphere  of  our  large  cities  in  midsum 
mer  is  so  lifeless  and  oppressive  that  everyone  who 
can  get  away  for  some  part  of  the  summer  plans 
to  do  so,  and  fathers  of  families  find  themselves 
annually  confronted  by  a  serious  problem. 

I  specify  the  father  of  a  family  because  the  prob 
lem  is  so  much  easier  for  a  single  man.  The  single 
man,  and  generally  the  single  woman,  can  pack  a 
bag  and  go  to  the  beach  or  mountains,  or  to  a  hotel 
within  easy  distance  from  town,  without  much  pre 
meditation.  The  worst  that  can  happen  to  them  is 
that  they  may  become  engaged  without  intention  ; 
besides  they  can  always  come  home  if  they  are  dis 
satisfied  with  their  surroundings.  But  the  family 
man  who  lives  in  a  large  city  finds  more  and  more 

218 


The  Summer  Problem 


The  city  in   midsummer. 

difficulty  every  year,  as  the  country  increases  in 
population,  in  making  up  his  mind  how  best  to 
provide  for  the  midsummer  necessities  of  his  wife 
and  children.  There  are  several  courses  of  action 
open  to  him. 

319 


The  Art  of  Living 


He  can  remain  in  town  and  keep  his  family 
there. 

He  can  remain  in  town  himself  and  send  his 
family  to  a  distance. 

He  can  hire  a  house  or  lodgings  by  the  sea  or 
in  the  country  within  easy  reach  of  town  by  rail 
road  or  steamboat. 

He  can  send  his  family  to  a  summer  hotel  at  a 
distance,  or  take  a  house  or  lodgings  at  a  distance, 
making  occasional  flying  trips  to  and  from  town, 
according  to  his  opportunities. 

To  stay  in  town  and  keep  one's  family  there  is 
a  far  from  disagreeable  experience  except  in  very 
large  cities  in  unusually  hot  weather.  The  cus 
tom  of  going  away  from  home  in  summer  is  one 
which  has  grown  by  force  of  imitation.  The  in 
clination  to  change  one's  surroundings,  and  to  give 
the  wife  and  children  a  whiff  of  country  or  sea  or 
mountain  air  for  a  few  weeks  in  the  course  of  the 
year  is  an  ambition  which  is  neither  godless  nor 
extravagant.  But  it  is  not  worth  while  to  set  this 
necessity  up  as  an  idol  to  be  worshipped  at  the  ex 
pense  of  comfort  for  the  rest  of  the  year,  for,  after 
all,  our  ancestors  successfully  reared  large  families 
of  children,  including  some  of  us,  without  going 
away  from  home  in  the  summer,  and  "  the-can't- 
get-aways  "  in  our  largest  and  most  uncomfortable 
cities  still  outnumber  those  who  can  and  do  in  the 
proportion  of  at  least  five  to  one.  It  costs  more 


The  Summer  Problem 


to  go  away  than  to  stay  in  town ;  from  which  cer 
tain  native  philosophers,  who  maintain  that  any 
one  who  spends  more 
than  twenty-five  hun 
dred  dollars  on  his 
family  in  any  one 
year  is  not  a  good 
American,  may  ar 
gue  that  those  who 
have  both  a  summer 
and  a  winter  home 
are  aristocrats  and 
materialists.  Their 
argument  is  not  like 
ly  to  diminish  sum 
mer  travel,  to 
bankrupt  the 
summer  ho 
tels,  or  to  in 
duce  the  well- 
to-do  Ameri 
can  citizen  to 
shut  up  his 


The  single  man  can   pack  a    bag. 


cottage.  A  change  in  summer,  for  a  lon 
ger  or  shorter  period,  is  generally  recog 
nized  as  one  of  the  most  healthful  and  im 
proving  advantages  which  a  father  in  our  civiliza 
tion  can  give  his  family  and  himself.  On  the  oth 
er  hand,  to  go  out  of  town  simply  because  one's 


The  Art  of  Living 


neighbors  do,  when  one  cannot  afford  it,  is  a  piti 
ful  performance. 

Moreover,  the  man  who  does  not  send  his  family 
out  of  town  from  motives  of  economy,  has  more 
than  a  clean  conscience  to  comfort  him.  He  can 
remember  that  probably  one-third  of  the  annual 
experiments  in  summer  culture  and  health-giving 
recreation,  made  by  his  friends  and  acquaintance, 
turn  out  dire  failures,  and  that  another  one-third 
results  in  mixed  joy  and  comfort.  He  can  reflect 
too,  if  he  lives  in  the  suburbs  of  a  city,  or  in  a 
town  or  small  city,  that,  barring  a  few  exception 
ally  hot  days,  he  and  his  family  are  really  very 
comfortable  at  home.  Even  if  his  household  gods 
are  in  a  parboiled  metropolis,  he  will  commonly 
be  able  to  relieve  his  tedium  and  physical  discom 
fort  by  some  form  of  excursion.  All  our  seaboard 
cities  have  their  midsummer  Meccas  for  the  mul 
titude  in  the  form  of  beaches ;  and  even  where  no 
ocean  breezes  blow,  there  is  usually  close  at  hand 
verdure,  a  lake,  a  grove,  or  a  river  where  the  phil 
osophical  soul  can  forget  the  thermometer,  and 
cease  to  commiserate  with  itself  on  being  kept  in 
town.  One's  own  bed  is  never  humpy,  and  the 
hollows  in  it  are  just  fitted  to  one's  bones  or  adi 
pose  developments.  One  can  eat  and  drink  in 
one's  town-house  without  fear  of  indigestion  or 
germs.  Decidedly  the  happiness  of  staying  at 
home  is  not  much  less  than  the  happiness  of  pass- 


The  Summer  Problem 


ing  one,  two,  or  three  months  at  a  place  where 
everything  is  uncomfortable  or  nasty,  at  a  cost 
which  one  can  ill  afford,  if  at  all.  Good  city  milk 
and  succulent  city  vegetables  are  luxuries  which 


Where  the   philosophical  soul  can  forget  the  thermometer. 

are  rarely  to  be  found  at  the  ordinary  summer 
resort. 

It  is  difficult  to  convince  one's  family  of  this  in 
advance.  Besides,  man  is  always  to  be  blessed. 
We  are  always  hoping  that  the  next  summer  will 
be  a  grand  improvement  on  those  which  have 
gone  before,  and  generally  by  the  first  of  May  we 
believe,  or  at  least  imagine,  that  we  have  discov- 
ered  the  genuine  article — the  ideal  spot  at  last. 


The  Art  of  Living 


Discovered  it  for  our  families.  The  American 
father  has  the  trick  of  sending  his  family  out  of 
town  for  the  summer,  and  staying  at  home  him 
self.  This  had  its  origin  probably  in  his  supposed 
inability  to  escape  from  business  in  the  teeth  of 
the  family  craving  to  see  something  of  the  world 
outside  of  their  own  social  acquaintance.  Yet  he 
acknowledged  the  force  of  the  family  argument 
that  with  such  a  large  country  to  explore  it  would 
be  a  pity  not  to  explore  it;  and  accordingly  he 
said,  "  Go,  and  I  will  join  you  if  and  when  I  can." 
Paterfamilias  said  this  long  ago,  and  in  some  in 
stances  he  has  vainly  been  trying  to  join  them  ever 
since.  There  are  all  sorts  of  trying  in  this  world, 
and  perhaps  his  has  not  been  as  determined  as 
some;  nevertheless,  he  has  maintained  tolerably 
well  the  reputation  of  trying.  The  Saturday  night 
trains  and  steamboats  all  over  the  country  are  ve 
hicles,  from  July  first  to  October  first,  of  an  army 
of  fathers  who  are  trying  successfully  to  join  their 
nearest  and  dearest  at  the  different  summer-resorts 
of  the  land. 

To  be  separated  for  three  months  from  one's 
wife  and  children,  except  for  a  day  or  two  once  a 
fortnight,  is  scarcely  an  ideal  domestic  arrange 
ment,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is  more  or  less 
delightful  for  the  dear  ones  to  meet  new  people 
and  see  new  scenes.  The  American  father  may 
not  try  very  hard  to  leave  his  city  home,  but  it 


The  Summer  Problem 


must  be  admitted  that  he  has  been  an  amiable 
biped  on  the  score  of  the  summer  question.  He 
has  been  and  is  ready  to  suffer  silently  for  the 
sake  of  his  family  and  his  business.  But  now  that 
he  has  made  up  his  mind  at  last  that  he  prefers  to 
leave  his  business  for  the  sake  of  his  family  and 
his  own  health,  the  difficulties  of  sending  them  to 
a  distance  are  more  apparent  to  him.  Ten  or 
fifteen  years  ago  it  dawned  upon  him  that  the  city 
in  summer  without  his  family  was  not  the  ideal 
spot  his  fancy  had  painted,  and  that  the  sea-side 
and  country,  especially  the  former,  were,  after  all, 
the  best  place  for  an  over-worked,  full-grown  man 
on  a  summer's  afternoon.  It  dawned  upon  him, 
too,  that  there  was  sea-coast  and  country  close  at 
hand  where  he  could  establish  his  family  and  re 
fresh  himself  at  the  end  of  every  day's  work. 
Twenty-five  years  ago  the  marine  and  attractive 
suburban  environs  of  our  cities  were  substantially 
unappropriated.  To-day  they  bristle  with  cot 
tages,  large  and  small,  the  summer  homes  of  city 
men.  Every  available  promontory,  island,  hill, 
nook,  and  crook,  which  commands  a  pleasing  view 
or  is  visited  by  cooling  breezes  is,  or  soon  will  be, 
occupied.  What  can  a  busy  man  do  better,  if  he 
can  afford  it,  than  buy  or  hire  a  cottage,  as  hum 
ble  as  you  like,  to  which  he  can  return  in  the  af 
ternoon  to  the  bosom  of  his  own  family,  and  be 
comfortable  and  lazy  until  morning  ? 


The  Art  of  Living 


From  the  domestic  point  of  view  this  is  assur 
edly  the  most  satisfactory  arrangement  for  the 
father,  and  the  American  paterfamilias,  ever  since 
the  truth  dawned  upon  him,  has  been  prompt  in 
recognizing  the  fact.  He  has  builded,  too,  ac 
cording  to  his  taste,  whim,  and  individual  idiosyn 
crasies.  A  sea-side  cottage  within  easy  reach  of 
town  includes,  to-day,  every  variety  of  shelter 
from  a  picturesque  villa  of  the  most  super-civil 
ized  type  to  the  hulk  of  a  ship  fitted  up  as  a  camp 
ing-out  home.  To  a  large  extent,  too,  the  hotel 
has  been  discarded  in  favor  of  the  domestic  hearth, 
even  though  the  single  chimney  smokes  so  that 
tears  are  perpetually  in  the  domestic  eye.  The 
well-to-do  city  man  who  comes  to  town  every  day 
appreciates  that  a  hotel  is  a  poor  place  for  chil 
dren  ;  consequently  the  long  piazzas,  where  the 
terrible  infant  forever  used  to  abound,  are  now 
trodden  chiefly  by  visitors  from  a  distance  and 
transients  who  have  escaped  from  the  city  for  a 
day  in  search  of  a  sea-bath  and  a  clam  chowder. 

If  the  summer  cottage  to  which  the  husband 
returns  at  night,  is  not  the  most  satisfactory  ar 
rangement  for  the  mother,  she  must  blame  herself 
or  the  civilization  in  which  she  lives.  The  sole 
argument  in  favor  of  passing  the  summer  at  a 
hotel  is  that  the  wife  and  mother  escapes  thereby 
the  cares  of  housekeeping,  too  often  so  severe 
during  the  rest  of  the  year  that  the  prospect  of 

226 


The  Summer  Problem 


not  being  obliged  to  order  dinner  for  three  months 
causes  her  to  wake  in  the  night  and  laugh  hysteri 
cally.  Formality  and  conventional  ceremony  are 
the  lurking  enemies  of  our  American  summer  life, 
who  threaten  to  deprive  our  mothers  and  daugh 
ters  of  the  rest  and  vacation  from  the  tension, 
excitement,  and  worry  begotten  by  nine  months 
of  active  domestic  duties.  Simplicity  of  living 
ought  to  be  the  controlling 
warm-weather  maxim  of  ev 
ery  household  where  the 
woman  at  the  head  of  the  es 
tablishment  does  the  house 
keeping,  as  nine  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  women  out  of  ten  thou 
sand  in  America  do. 
It  may  be  argued 
that  greater  simplic 
ity  in  living  all  the 
year  round  would 
enable  the  wife  and 
mother  to  do  with 
out  a  vacation.  Pos 
sibly.  But  unfort 
unately  for  her  the  trend  of  the  tide  is  all  the 
other  way.  Besides,  simplicity  is  such  a  diffi 
cult  word  to  conjure  with.  Her  interests  have 
become  so  varied  that  the  wear  and  tear  is  quite 
* .  227 


An  artistic  interior. 


The  Art  of  Living 


as  likely  to  proceed  from  new  mental  strivings  as 
from  a  multiplicity  of  sheer  domestic  duties.  At 
least  there  seems  to  be  no  immediate  prospect 
that  she  will  be  less  tired  in  the  spring,  however 
exemplary  her  intentions,  and  it  therefore  be 
hooves  her  not  to  allow  the  wave  of  increasing 
luxury  to  bear  her  on  its  crest  through  the  sum 
mer  and  land  her  in  her  town-house  in  October  a 
physical  and  mental  wreck. 

The  external  attractiveness  of  the  modern  sum 
mer  cottage,  with  its  pleasing  angles  and  comely 
stains,  is  easily  made  an  excuse  for  an  artistic  in 
terior  and  surroundings  to  match.  But  artistic 
beauty  in  summer  can  readily  be  produced  with 
out  elaboration,  and  at  comparatively  slight  cost, 
if  we  only  choose  to  be  content  with  simple  ef 
fects.  The  bewitching  charm  of  the  summer  girl, 
if  analyzed,  proves  to  be  based  on  a  few  cents  a 
yard  and  a  happy  knack  of  combining  colors  and 
trifles.  Why  need  we  be  solicitous  to  have  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  winter -life — meals  with  many 
courses,  a  retinue  of  servants,  wines,  festal  attire, 
and  splendid  entertainments  ?  While  we  rejoice 
that  the  promiscuous  comradeship  of  hotel  life  has 
largely  given  place  at  Newport,  Bar  Harbor, 
Lenox,  and  our  other  fashionable  watering-places 
to  the  pleasant  protection  of  the  cottage  home,  is 
it  not  seriously  deplorable  that  simplicity  is  too 
often  lost  sight  of?  To  be  comfortable  is  one 


228 


The  Summer  Problem 


thing,  to  be  swathed  in  luxury  or  to  be  tortured 
by  ceremony  all  the  time  is  another.  It  seems 
strange  to  many  of  us,  who  cannot  choose  pre 
cisely  what  we  will  do  and  where  we  will  go  in 


Meals  with  many  courses. 


summer,  that  those  who 
can  so  often  select  a 
mere  repetition  of  mid 
winter  social  recreation. 

There  is  Patterson  the  banker  for  instance,  the 
employer  of  Rogers.  He  can  go  where  he  pleases, 
and  he  goes  to  Newport.  One  can  see  him  any 
afternoon  driving  augustly  on  Bellevue  Avenue  or 
along  the  ocean  drive,  well  gloved,  well  shod,  and 
brilliantly  necktied,  in  his  landau  beside  Mrs.  Pat 
terson.  They  have  been  to  Newport  for  years  in 


The  Art  of  Living 


summer,  and  their  house,  with  its  beautiful  out 
look  to  sea,  has  doubled  and  trebled  in  value. 
How  do  they  pass  their  time  ?  Entertain  and  let 
themselves  be  entertained.  Dinners  with  formal 
comestibles,  late  dances,  champagne  luncheons, 
pate  de  fois  gras  picnics  on  a  coach  are  their  daily 
associations.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Patterson  are  close  up 
on  sixty  themselves,  but  they  follow — a  little  more 
solemnly  than  formerly,  but  still  without  stint 
—the  same  programme,  which  grows  more  and 
more  elaborate  with  each  succeeding  year.  It  was 
there  that  their  youngest  daughter  was  married, 
six  months  ago,  with  widely  heralded  splendor,  to 
a  Russian  nobleman  who  speaks  beautiful  English. 
May  her  lot'  be  a  happy  one  !  The  son,  who  went 
through  the  Keeley  cure,  and  the  elder  daughter, 
who  is  separated  from  her  husband,  have  spent 
their  summers  at  'Newport  from  their  youth  up. 

There  are  comparatively  few  who  have  the 
means  to  live,  or  who  do  live  just  like  Patterson, 
but  there  is  many  a  man  of  fine  instincts  and  with 
a  sufficient  income  to  maintain  a  summer  home, 
who  finds  himself  to-day  oppressed  by  the  incubus 
of  things.  He  seeks  rest,  books,  fresh  air,  the  op 
portunity  to  enjoy  nature — the  sea,  the  foliage, 
the  flowers — and  yet  he  is  harassed  by  things,  the 
very  things  he  has  all  winter,  with  a  garnishment 
suitable  to  hot  weather.  He  wishes  to  be  still; 
and  things  keep  him  moving.  He  yearns  to  strip 


The  Summer  Problem 


off,  if  not  all  his  clothing,  at  least  enough  of  it  to 
give  his  lungs  and  his  soul  full  play  ;  but  things 
keep  him  faultlessly  dressed.  He  intends  to  slake 
his  thirst  only  from  the  old  oaken  bucket  or  the 
milk-pail,  and  things  keep  his  palate  titillated  with 
champagne  and  cocktails.  Our  old-time  simplic 
ity  in  summer  is  perhaps  no  longer 
possible  in  the  large  watering-places. 
It  is  even  with  considerable  satisfac- 
£ion  that  we  don,  and  see  our 
wives  and  children  don,  the 
attractive  clothing  which 
has  taken  the  place 
of  shirt-sleeves 
and  flannel 
shirts  as  ar 
ticles  of  toi 
lette  ;  but 
is  it  not  ' 
time  to 
cry  halt 

in   our  procession  toward  luxury,  if  we  do  not 
wish  to  live  on  our  nerves  all  the  year  round  ? 

It  is  this  difficulty  in  escaping  the  expenses  and 
the  formality  of  city  life  in  the  summer  cottage 
or  at  the  summer  hotel,  almost  as  much  as  the  fact 
that  the  desirable  locations  near  town  have  all 
been  taken,  which  is  inclining  the  American 
father  to  send  his  family  to  a  distance.  After 

231 


The  son,  who  went  through  the  Keeley  cure. 


The  Art  of  Living 


twenty-five  years  of  exploration  the  outlying 
beaches  and  other  favorite  resorts  near  our  large 
cities  have  become  so  thoroughly  appropriated 
that  the  man  who  wishes  to  build  or  own  a  sum 
mer  home  of  his  own  is  obliged  to  look  elsewhere. 
As  a  consequence  cottages  have  sprung  up  all 
along  the  line  of  our  coast,  from  the  farthest  con 
fines  of  Maine  to  New  Jersey,  on  the  shores  of  the 
lakes  of  the  middle  West,  and  on  the  Pacific  shore. 
Many  of  these  are  of  a  simple  and  attractive  char 
acter,  and  generally  they  stand  in  small  colonies, 
large  enough  for  companionship  and  not  too  large 
for  relaxation.  With  the  similar  double  purpose 
of  obtaining  an  attractive  summer  home  at  a  rea 
sonable  price,  and  of  avoiding  the  stock  watering- 
place,  city  families  are  utilizing  also  the  aban 
doned  farm.  There  is  not  room  for  us  all  on  the 
sea-coast ;  besides  those  of  us  whose  winter  homes 
are  there  are  more  likely  to  need  inland  or  moun 
tain  air.  There  are  thousands  of  beautiful  coun 
try  spots,  many  of  them  not  so  very  far  from  our 
homes,  where  the  run-down  farm  can  be  redeemed, 
if  not  to  supply  milk  and  butter,  at  least  to  afford 
a  picturesque  shelter  and  a  lovely  landscape  dur 
ing  the  season  when  we  wish  to  be  out  of  doors  as 
much  as  possible.  A  very  few  changes,  a  very 
little  painting  and  refurnishing  will  usually  trans 
form  the  farm-house  itself  into  just  the  sort  of 
establishment  which  a  family  seeking  rest  and 

232 


The  Summer  Problem 


quiet  recreation  ought  to  delight  in.  You  may 
bring  mosquito-frames  for  the  windows  if  you  like, 
and  you  must  certainly  test  the  well-water.  Then 
swing  your  hammock  between  two  apple-trees 
and  thank  Providence  that  you  are  not  like  so 
many  of  your  friends  and  acquaintances,  working 
the  tread-mill  of  society  in  the  dog-days. 

Of  course  most  men  who  have  homes  of  this 
description  at  a  distance  cannot  be  with  their 
families  all  the  time.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
conviction  that  a  busy  man  can  do  better  work  in 
ten  or  eleven  months  than  in  twelve,  is  gaining 
ground,  and  most  of  us,  if  we  only  choose  to,  can 
slip  away  for  at  least  three  weeks.  Many  of  the 
demands  of  modern  civilization  on  the  family 
purse  cannot  be  resisted  without  leaving  the  hus 
band  and  parent  a  little  depressed  ;  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  a  serious  item  of  expense  may  be 
avoided,  and  yet  all  the  genuine  benefits  and 
pleasures  of  a  change  of  scene  and  atmosphere  be 
obtained,  if  we  only  dismiss  from  our  minds  the 
idea  of  living  otherwise  than  simply.  A  little 
house  with  very  little  in  it,  with  a  modest  piazza, 
a  skiff  or  sail-boat  which  does  not  pretend  to  be  a 
yacht,  a  garden  hoe  and  rake,  a  camera,  books  and 
a  hammock,  a  rod  which  is  not  too  precious  or 
costly  to  break,  one  nag  of  plebeian  blood  and 
something  to  harness  him  to,  rabbits  in  the  barn 
and  sunflowers  in  the  garden,  a  walk  to  sunset  hill 

«33 


The  Art  of  Living 


and  a  dialogue  with  the  harvest  moon — why  should 
we  not  set  our  summer  life  to  such  a  tune,  rather 
than  hanker  for  the  neighborhood  of  the  big 
steam-yacht  and  polo-ground,  for  the  fringe  of  the 
fashionable  bathing  beach,  for  the  dust  of  the  styl 
ish  equipage,  and  try  in  our  several  ways,  and 
beyond  our  means,  to  follow  the  pace  which  is  set 
for  us  by  others  ? 

II 

WHY?  Largely  on  account  of  that  newly 
created  species,  the  American  girl.  From  solici 
tude  for  her  happiness  and  out  of  deference  to  her 
wishes.  Many  a  father  and  mother  would  be  de 
lighted  to  pass  the  summer  on  an  abandoned  farm 
or  in  any  other  spot  where  it  were  possible  to  live 
simply  and  to  be  cool,  comfortable,  and  lazy,  but 
for  fear  of  disappointing  their  young  people- 
principally  their  daughters,  who,  unlike  the  sons, 
cannot  yet  come  and  go  at  will.  Feminine  youth 
has  its  inherent  privileges  everywhere,  but  the 
gentle  sway  which  it  exercises  in  other  civiliza 
tions  has  become  almost  a  sour  tyranny  here. 
Was  there  ever  an  American  mother  who  knew 
anything  portrayed  in  fiction  ?  The  American 
daughter  is  commonly  presented  as  a  noble-souled, 
original  creature,  whose  principal  mission  in  life, 
next  to  or  incidental  to  refusing  the  man  who  is 

234 


The  Summer  Problem 


not  her  choice,  is  to  let  her  own  parents  under 
stand  what  weak,  ignorant,  foolish,  unenlightened 
persons  they  are  in   comparison   with  the  rising 
generation  —  both 
parents    in    some 
measure,  but  chief 
ly  and   utterly  the 
mother.     She  is  us 
ually    willing    to 
concede  that  her  fa 
ther  has  a  few  glim 
mering    ideas,   and 
a  certain  amount  of 
sense  —  horse  busi 
ness  sense,  not  very 
elevating  or  inspir 
ing — yet  something 
withal.      But    she 
looks    upon    her   poor 
dear  mother  as  a  fee 
ble-minded    individual 
of  the  first  water.  What 
we  read  in  contempo 
rary   fiction    in    this 
realistic  age  is  apt  to 
be  photographed  from 
existing    conditions. 
The  newly  created  spe 
cies  Of  OUr  homes  does        That  newly  created  species,  the  American  girl. 

235 


The  Art  of  Living 


not  always  reveal  these  sentiments  in  so  many 
words ;  indeed  she  is  usually  disposed  to  conceal 
from    her  parents   as   far   as  possible    their  own 
shortcomings,  believing  often,  with   ostrich- 
like  complacency,  that  they 
have  no  idea  what  she  real- 
thinks  of  them.     Quite 
frequently  late  in  life 
it    dawns    upon    her 
that  they  were  not 
such  complete  im 
beciles  as  she  had 
adjudged  them, 
and  she  revises 
her  convictions 
accordingly. 
But    often    she 
lives  superior  to 
the  end. 

It  would  be 
an  excellent 
thing  for  the 
American  girl 
if  her  eyes  could 
be  definitely 

opened  to  the  fact  that  her  parents,  particularly 
her  mother,  are  much  more  clever  than  she  sup 
poses,  and  that  they  are  really  her  best  counsel 
lors.  But  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  the  Ameri- 

236 


Refusing  the  man  who  is  not  her  choice. 


The  Summer  Problem 


can  mother  herself  chiefly  responsible  for  this  atti 
tude  of  loving  contempt  and  sweet  but  unfilial 
condescension  on  the  part  of  her  own  flesh  and 
blood  ?  It  sometimes  seems  as  though  we  had 
fallen  victims  to  our  reluctance  to  thwart  our  chil 
dren  in  any  way  lest  we  should  destroy  their  love 
for  us.  But  is  it  much  preferable  to  be  loved  devot 
edly  as  foolish,  weak,  and  amiable  old  things,  than 
to  be  feared  a  little  as  individuals  capable  of  exer 
cising  authority  and  having  opinions  of  our  own  ? 
This  yielding,  self-abnegating  tendency  on  the 
part  of  parents,  and  consequent  filial  tyranny,  are 
especially  conspicuous  in  the  case  of  that  arch 
despot,  the  summer  girl.  I  admit  her  fascination 
unreservedly,  and  am  willing  to  concede  that  she 
has  run  the  gauntlet  of  criticism  hurled  at  her  by 
the  effete  civilizations  with  an  unblemished  repu 
tation.  Though  she  may  have  become  a  little 
more  conservative  and  conventional  out  of  defer 
ence  to  good  taste,  she  is  still  able  to  be  lost  in 
caves  or  stranded  on  islands  with  any  young  man 
of  her  acquaintance  without  bringing  a  blush  to 
any  cheek  except  that  of  the  horror-stricken  for 
eigner.  But  having  admitted  this,  I  am  obliged 
to  charge  her  with  trampling  on  the  prostrate 
form  of  her  mother  from  the  first  of  July  to  the 
first  of  October.  She  does  so  to  a  certain  extent 
the  year  round,  but  the  summer  is  the  crowning 
season  of  her  despotism. 


The  Art  of  Living 


The  first  concern  of  the  American  father  and 
mother  in  making  plans  for  the  summer  is  to  go 
to  some  place  which  the  children  will  like,  and 
the  summer  girl  in  particular.  This  is  natural 
and  in  keeping  with  the  unselfish  devotion  shown 
by  the  present  generation  of  parents  toward  their 


Stranded  on   islands. 


children.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  endeavor  to  se 
lect  a  place  which  will  be  satisfactory  to  one's 
eighteen-year-old  daughter  and  another  to  be 
sweetly  hectored  by  that  talented  young  woman 
into  going  to  some  place  selected  by  her  of  which 
you  entirely  disapprove.  And  just  here  it  is  that 
the  American  mother  almost  seems  to  be  convicted 

238 


Joins  an  almost  tearful  support  to  the  summer  girl's  petition. 


The  Summer  Problem 


of  the  feebleness  of  intellect  ascribed  to  her  by  the 
newly  created  species.  You,  the  father,  are  just 
screwing  your  courage  up  to  say  that  you  will  be 
blessed  if  you  will  go  to  a  summer  hotel  at  Narra- 
gansett  Pier  (or  wherever  it  is),  when  your  wife, 
who  has  been  cowed  or  cajoled  by  the  despot  in 
the  interim,  flops  completely,  as  the  saying  is,  and 
joins  an  almost  tearful  support  to  the  summer 
girl's  petition.  And  there  you  are.  What  are  you 
to  do  ?  Daughter  and  mother,  the  apple  of  your 
eye  and  the  angel  of  your  heart,  leagued  against 
you.  Resistance  becomes  impossible,  unless  you 
are  ready  to  incur  the  reputation  of  being  a  stony 
hearted  old  curmudgeon. 

The  summer  girl  invariably  wishes  to  go  where 
it  is  gay.  Her  idea  of  enjoyment  does  not  admit 
domesticity  and  peaceful  relaxation.  She  craves 
to  be  actively  amused,  if  not  blissfully  excited. 
It  is  not  strange  that  the  tastes  and  sentiments  of 
young  persons  from  seventeen  to  twenty-three 
should  differ  considerably  from  those  of  mothers 
and  fathers  from  forty  to  fifty,  and  it  speaks  well 
for  the  intelligence  and  unselfishness  of  middle- 
aged  parents  and  guardians  in  this  country  that 
they  so  promptly  recognize  the  legitimate  claims 
of  youth,  and  even  are  eager  to  give  young  peo 
ple  a  chance  to  enjoy  themselves  before  the  cares 
of  life  hedge  them  in.  But  have  we  not  gone  to 
the  other  extreme  ?  Is  it  meet  that  we  should  re- 

24 1 


The  Art  of  Living 


gard  ourselves  as  moribund  at  fifty,  and  sacrifice 
all  our  own  comfort  and  happiness  in  order  to  let 
a  young  girl  have  her  head,  and  lead  a  life  in 
summer     of 
which    we 
heartily  dis 
approve?  It 
is  not  an  ex 
aggeration 


to  state   that   there 
is  a  growing  dispo 
sition  on  the  part  of 
the  rising  hordes  of 
young  men  and  girls 
to  regard  anyone  in 
society  over  thirty- 
five  as  a  fossil  and  an  encumbrance,  tor  whom, 
in  a  social  sense,  the  grave  is  yawning.     It  is  not 
uncommon   to   hear   a   comely    matron   of    forty 


Give  young  people  a  chance  to  enjoy  them 
selves. 


242 


The  Summer  Problem 


described  as  a  frump  by  a  youth  scarcely  out 
of  his  teens,  and  every  old  gentleman  of  thirty- 
nine  has  experienced  the  tactless  pity  which  fash 
ionable  maidens  under  twenty-one  endeavor  to 
conceal  in  the  presence  of  his  senility. 

The  summer  girl  is  generally  a  young  person 
who  has  been  a  winter  girl  for  nine  months.  I 
am  quite  aware  that  some  girls  are  much  more 
effective  in  summer  than  at  any  other  season,  and 
it  may  be  that  in  certain  cases  they  appear  to  so 
little  advantage  in  winter  that  to  attempt  to  grat 
ify  parental  inclinations  at  their  expense  would 
be  rank  unkindness.  But  it  is  safe  to  allege  that 
the  average  summer  girl  in  this  country  has  been 
doing  all  she  ought  to  do  in  the  way  of  dancing, 
prancing,  gadding,  going,  working,  and  generally 
spending  her  vital  powers  in  the  autumn,  winter, 
and  spring  immediately  preceding,  and  conse 
quently  when  summer  comes  needs,  quite  as  much 
as  her  parents,  physical,  mental,  and  moral  ozone. 
But  what  does  she  prefer  to  do  ?  Whither  is  she 
bent  on  leading  her  father  by  the  nose  with  the 
assistance  of  her  mother  ?  To  various  places,  ac 
cording  to  her  special  predilection,  and  the  farth 
est  limit  of  the  parental  purse.  If  possible,  to 
one  of  the  gayest  watering-places,  where  she 
hopes  to  bathe,  play  tennis,  walk,  talk,  and  drive 
during  the  day ;  paddle,  stroll,  or  sit  out  during 
the  evening,  and  dance  until  twelve  o'clock  at 

243 


The  Art  of  Living 


night  two  or  three  times  a  week.  Else  to  some 
much-advertised  mountain  cataract  or  lake-resort, 
to  lead  a  stagnant  hotel  corridor  and  piazza,  life, 
in  the  fond  hope  of  seeing  the  vividly  imagined 
Him  alight  from  the  stage-coach  some  Saturday 
night.  Meanwhile  she  is  one  of  three-score  for 
lorn  girls  who  haunt  the  office  and  make  eyes  at 


Haunt  the  office  and  make  eyes  at  the  hotel  clerk. 

the  hotel  clerk.  The  summer  girl  has  a  mania  for 
the  summer  hotel.  It  seems  to  open  to  her  radi 
ant  possibilities.  She  kindles  at  the  mention  of 
a  hop  in  August,  and  if  she  is  musical,  the  tinkle 
of  her  piano  playing  reverberates  through  the 
house  all  day  until  the  other  boarders  are  driven 
nearly  crazy.  In  the  gloaming  after  supper  she 


The  Summer  Problem 


flits  off  from  the  house  with  her  best  young  man 
of  the  moment,  and  presently  her  mother  is  heard 
bleating  along  the  piazza,  "  My   Dorothy 
has  gone  without  her  shawl,  and  will  catch 
her  death  a  cold." 

And  so  it  goes  all  summer.  When  au 
tumn  comes  and  the 
leaf  is  about  to  fall, 


Flits  off  from  the  house  with  her  best  young 
man  of  the  moment. 


and  Dorothy  re 
turns  to  town,  what 
has  she  to  show  for 
it?  A  little  tan  and 
a  callous  heart,  a 
promised  winter 
correspondence 
with  the  hotel  clerk,  new  slang,  some  knack  at 
banjo-playing,  and  considerable  uncertainty  in  her 
mind  as  to  whom  she  is  engaged  to,  or  whether 
she  is  engaged  at  all.  And  like  as  not  the  doctor 
is  sent  for  to  build  her  up  for  the  winter  with  cod- 
liver  oil  and  quinine.  There  is  too  much  ozone 
at  some  of  these  summer  hotels. 


The  Art  of  Living 


We  cannot  hope  to  do  away  wholly  with  either 
the  summer  hotel  or  the  fashionable  watering- 
place  by  the  assertion  of  parental  authority.  Such 
an  endeavor,  indeed,  would  on  the  whole  be  an  un 
just  as  well  as  fruitless  piece  of  virtue.  The  de 
lightful  comradeship  between  young  men  and 
young  women,  which  is  one  of  our  national  prod 
ucts,  is  typified  most  saliently  by  the  summer 
girl  and  her  attendant  swains.  Naturally  she 
wishes  to  go  to  some  place  where  swains  are  apt 
to  congregate  ;  and  the  swain  is  always  in  search  of 
her.  Moreover,  the  summer  hotel  must  continue 
to  be  the  summer  home  of  thousands  who,  for  one 
reason  or  another,  have  no  cottage  or  abandoned 
farm.  My  plea  is  still  the  same,  however.  Why, 
now  that  the  negro  slave  is  free,  and  the  working- 
man  is  being  legislated  into  peace  and  plenty,  and 
the  wrongs  of  other  women  are  being  righted, 
should  not  the  American  mother  try  to  burst  her 
bonds  ?  It  would  be  a  much  more  simple  matter 
than  it  seems,  for,  after  all,  she  has  her  own  blood 
in  her  veins,  and  she  has  only  to  remember  what 
a  dogmatic  person  she  herself  was  in  the  days  of 
her  youth.  If  the  code  of  fathers  and  mothers, 
instead  of  that  of  girls  and  boys,  were  in  force 
at  our  summer  hotels  and  watering-places,  a  very 
different  state  of  affairs  would  soon  exist ;  and 
that,  too,  without  undue  interference  with  that 
inherent,  cherished,  and  unalienable  right  of  the 

246 


The  Summer  Problem 


American  daughter,  the  maiden's  choice.  We 
must  not  forget  that  though  our  civilization 
boasts  the  free  exercise  of  the  maiden's  choice  as 
one  of  the  brightest  jewels  in  the  crown  of  repub 
lican  liberties,  the  crowded  condition  of  our  di 
vorce  courts  forbids  us  to  be  too  de 
monstrative  in  our  self-satisfaction. 

It  would  be  dire, 
indeed,  to  bore  the 
young  person,  es 
pecially  the  sum 
mer  girl.  But  does 
it  necessarily  fol 
low  that  a  summer 
home  or  a  summer 
life  indicated  by 
the  parent  would 
induce  such  a  disastrous  result  ?  I  am  advising 
neither  a  dungeon,  a  convent,  nor  some  excruciat 
ingly  dull  spot  to  which  no  fascinating  youth  is 
likely  to  penetrate.  Verily,  even  the  crowded 
bathing  beach  may  not  corrupt,  provided  that  wise 
motherly  control  and  companionship  point  out  the 
dangers  and  protect  the  forming  soul,  mind,  and 
manners,  instead  of  allowing  them  to  be  distorted 
and  poisoned  by  the  ups  and  downs  of  promis 
cuous  amatory  summer  guerilla  warfare.  But 
may  it  not  happen,  when  the  maternal  foot  is  once 
firmly  put  down,  that  the  summer  girl  will  not  be 


Considerable  uncertainty  in  her  mind  as  to  whom 
she  is  engaged  to. 


The  Art  of  Living 


so  easily  bored  as  she  or  her  mother  fears,  and 
will  even  be  grateful  for  protection  against  her 
own  ignorance  and  inexperience  ?  Boating,  sketch 
ing,  riding,  reading,  bicycling,  travel,  sewing,  and 
photography  are  pastimes  which  ought  not  to 
bore  her,  and  would  surely  leave  her  more  re 
freshed  in  the  autumn  than  continuous  gadding, 
dancing,  and  flirtation.  To  be  a  member  of  a 
small,  pleasant  colony,  where  the  days  are  passed 
simply  and  lazily,  yet  interestingly  ;  where  the 
finer  senses  are  constantly  appealed  to  by  the 
beauties  of  nature  and  the  healthful  character  of 
one's  occupations,  is  a  form  of  exile  which  many  a 
summer  girl  would  acc9mmodate  herself  to  gladly 
if  she  only  understood  what  it  was  like,  and  un 
derstood,  moreover,  that  the  selection  of  a  sum 
mer  programme  had  ceased  to  be  one  of  her 
prerogatives.  A  determined  man  who  wishes  to 
marry  will  discover  the  object  of  his  affections  on 
an  abandoned  farm  or  in  the  heart  of  the  Maine 
woods,  if  he  is  worth  his  salt.  In  these  days  of 
many  yachts  and  bicycles  true  love  can  travel 
rapidly,  and  there  is  no  occasion  for  marriage 
able  girls  to  select  courting-grounds  where  their 
lovers  can  have  close  at  hand  a  Casino  and  other 
conveniences,  including  the  opportunity  to  flirt 
with  their  next  best  Dulcineas. 

If  the  summer-time  is  the  time  in  which  to  re 
cuperate  and  lie  fallow,  why  should  we  have  so 


The  Summer  Problem 


many  summer  schools  ?  After  the  grand  panjan 
drum  of  Commencement  exercises  at  the  colleges 
is  over,  there  ought  to  be  a  pause  in  the  intellect 
ual  activity  of  the  nation  for  at  least  sixty  days ; 
yet  there  seems  to  be  a  considerable  body  of  men 
and  women  who,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  ex 
ercise  their  brains  vigorously  during  the  rest  of 
the  year,  insist  on  mental  gymnastics  when  the 
thermometer  is  in  the  eighties.  These  schools — 
chiefly  assemblies  in  the  name  of  the  ologies  and 
osophies — bring  together  more  or  less  people 
more  or  less  learned,  from  all  over  the  country,  to 
talk  at  one  another  and 
read  papers. 

Judging  merely  from 
the  newspaper  accounts 
of  their  proceedings,  it 
is  almost  invariably 
impossible  to  dis 
cover  the  exact 
meaning  of  any 
thing  which  is  uttered, 
but  this  may  be  due  to 
the  absence  of  the  reg 
ular  reporters  on  their 
annual  vacations,  arid  the  consequent  delegation  to 
tyros  of  the  difficult  duty  in  question.  But  even 
assuming  that  the  utterances  of  the  summer  schools 
are  both  intelligible  and  stimulating,  would  not 


Close  their  text-books  with  a  bang  on 
July   1st. 


The  Art  of  Living 

the  serious-minded  men  and  women  concerned  in 
them  be  better  off  lying  in  a  hammock  under  a 
wide-spreading  beech-tree,  or,  if  this  seems  too 
relaxing  an  occupation,  watching  the  bathers  at 
Narragansett  Pier?  There  is  wisdom  sometimes 
in  sending  young  and  very  active  boys  to  school 
for  about  an  hour  a  day  in  summer,  in  order 
chiefly  to  know  where  they  are  and  to  prevent 
them  from  running  their  legs  off ;  but  with  this 
exception  the  mental  workers  in  this  country, 
male  and  female,  young  and  old,  can  afford  to  close 
their  text-books  with  a  bang  on  July  ist,  and  not 
peep  at  them  again  until  September.  Philosophy 
in  August  has  much  the  flavor  of  asparagus  in 
January. 


THE    CASE   OF  MAN 


A  NOT  inconsiderable  portion  of  the  women  of 
the  United  States  is  inclined  to  regard  man 
as  a  necessary  evil.  Their  point  of  view  is  that  he 
is  here,  and  therefore  is  likely,  for  the  present  at 
least,  to  remain  a  formidable  figure  in  human  af 
fairs,  but  that  his  ways  are  not  their  ways,  that 
they  disapprove  of  them  and  him,  and  that  they 
intend  to  work  out  their  lives  and  salvation  as 
independently  of  him  as  possible.  What  man  in 
the  flush  and  prime  of  life  has  not  been  made  con 
scious  of  this  attitude  of  the  modern  woman  ? 
She  is  constantly  passing  us  in  the  street  with  the 
manner  of  one  haughtily  and  supremely  indiffer 
ent.  There  are  women  enough  still  who  look 
patterns  of  modesty,  and  yet  let  us  feel  at  the 
same  time  that  we  are  more  or  less  an  object  of 
interest  to  them  ;  but  this  particular  type  sails  by 
in  her  trig  and  often  stylish  costume  with  the 
air  not  merely  of  not  seeing  us,  but  of  wishing  to 
ignore  us.  Her  compressed  lips  suggest  a  judg 
ment  ;  a  judgment  born  of  meditated  conviction 
which  leaves  no  hope  of  reconsideration  or  ex- 


The  Art  of  Living 


ception.  "  You  are  all  substantially  alike,"  she 
seems  to  say,  "  and  we  have  had  enough  of  you. 
Go  your  ways  and  we  will  go  ours." 

The  Mecca  of  the  modern  woman's  hopes,  as 
indicated  by  this  point  of  view,  would  appear  to 
be  the  ultimate  disappearance  of  man  from  the 
face  of  the  earth  after  the  manner  of  the  masto 
don  and  other  brutes.  Nor  are  her  hopes  balked 
by  physiological  barriers.  She  is  prepared  to  ad 
mit  that  it  is  not  obvious,  as  yet,  how  girls  alone 
are  to  be  generated  and  boy  babies  given  the  cold 
maternal  shoulder ;  but  she  trusts  to  science  and 
the  long  results  of  time  for  a  victory  which  will 
eliminate  sexual  relations  and  all  their  attendant 
perplexities  and  tragedies  from  the  theatre  of 
human  life. 

We  are  not  so  sanguine  as  she  that  the  king 
dom  of  heaven  is  to  be  brought  to  pass  in  any  so 
simple  and  purely  feminine  a  fashion.  That  is, 
we  men.  Perhaps  we  are  fatuous,  but  we  see  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  sexual  relations  will  continue 
to  the  crack  of  doom,  in  spite  of  the  perplexities 
and  tragedies  consequent  upon  them  ;  and  more 
over,  that  man  will  continue  to  thrive  like  a 
young  bay -tree,  even  though  she  continues  to 
wear  a  chip  on  her  tailor-made  shoulder.  And 
yet  at  the  same  time  we  feel  sober.  It  is  not 
pleasant  to  be  regarded  as  brutes  and  to  have 
judgment  passed  upon  us  by  otherwise  attractive 


The  Case  of  Man 


women.  It  behooves  us  to  scratch  our  heads 
and  ask  ourselves  if  we  can  possibly  merit  the 
haughty  indifference  and  thinly  disguised  con 
tempt  which  is  entertained  toward  us.  To  be 
weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting  by  a 
serene  and  beautiful  young  person  is  a  far  from 
agreeable  experience.  There  must  be  something 
wrong  with  us,  and  if  so, 
what  is  it  ? 

Of  course  there  was  a 
time — and  not  so  very  long 
ago  —  when  men  were  ty 
rants  and  kept  women  un 
der.  Nowadays  the  only 
thing  denied  them  in  polite 
circles  is  to  whisk  around 
by  themselves  after  dark, 
and  plenty  of  them  do  that. 
The  law  is  giving  them, 
with  both  hands,  almost  ev 
erything  they  ask  for  near 
ly  as  rapidly  as  existing  in 
equalities  are  pointed  out,  and  the  right  of  suf 
frage  is  withheld  from  them  only  because  the 
majority  of  women  are  still  averse  to  exercising 
it.  Man,  the  tyrant  and  highwayman,  has  thrown 
up  his  arms  and  is  allowing  woman  to  pick  his 
pockets.  He  is  not  willing  to  have  her  bore  a 
hole  in  his  upper  lip,  and  drag  him  behind  her 


Behooves  us  to  scratch  our  heads. 


The  Art  of  Living 


with  a  rope,  but  he  is  disposed  to  consent  to  any 
reasonable  legislative  changes  which  she  desires 
to  have  made,  short  of  those  which  would  involve 


Man,  the  tyrant  and  highwayman,   has  thrown  up  his 
arms." 


masculine  disfigurement  or  depreciation.  It  cer 
tainly  cannot  be  his  bullying  qualities  which  have 
attracted  her  disdain,  for  he  has  given  in.  If 
woman  to-day  finds  that  the  law  discriminates 
unjustly  between  her  and  man,  she  has  merely  to 
ask  for  relief  in  sufficient  numbers  to  show  that 
she  is  not  the  tool  of  designing  members  of  her 
own  sex,  in  order  to  obtain  it. 

356 


The  Case  of  Man 


Under  the  spur  of  these  reflections  I  consulted 
my  wife  by  way  of  obtaining  light  on  this  prob 
lem.  "  Barbara,  why  is  it  that  modern  women  of 
a  certain  type  are  so  sniffy  toward  men  ?  You 
know  what  I  mean  ;  they  speak  to  us,  of  course, 
and  tolerate  us,  and  they  love  us  individually 
as  husbands  and  fathers;  but  instead  of  count 
ing  for  everything,  as  we  once  did,  we  don't 
seem  to  count  for  anything  unless  it  be  dollars 
and  cents.  It  isn't  merely  that  you  all  talk  so 
fast  and  have  so  much  to  say  without  regard  to 
us  that  we  often  feel  left  out  in  the  cold,  and 
even  hurt,  but  there  is  a  stern,  relentless  look  on 
some  of  your  faces  which  makes  us  feel  as  though 
we  had  stolen  the  Holy  Grail.  You  must  have 
noticed  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Barbara,  with  a  smile.  "  It 
doesn't  mean  very  much.  Of  course  times  are 
not  what  they  were.  Man  used  to  be  a  demigod, 
now  he  is  only  a — 

Barbara  hesitated  for  a  word,  so  I  suggested, 
"  Only  a  bank." 

"  Let  us  say  only  a  man.  Only  a  man  in  the 
eyes  of  reflective  womanhood.  We  have  caught 
up  and  are  beginning  to  think  for  ourselves.  You 
can't  expect  us  to  hang  on  your  every  word  and 
to  fall  down  and  worship  you  without  reservation 
as  we  once  did.  Man  used  to  be  woman's  whole 
existence,  often  to  her  infinite  sorrow,  and  now  he 


The  Art  of  Living 


is  only  part  of  it,  just  as  she  is  only  a  part  of  his. 
You  go  to  your  clubs ;  we  go  to  ours  ;  and  while 
you  are  playing  cards  we  read  or  listen  to  papers, 
some  of  which  are  not  intelligible  to  man.  But 
we  love  you  still,  even  though  we  have  ceased  to 
worship  you.  There  are  a  few,  I  admit,  who  would 
like  to  do  away  with  you  altogether  ;  but  they  are 
extremists — in  every  revolution,  you  know,  there 
are  fanatics  and  unreasonable  persons — but  the 
vast  majority  of  us  have  a  tender  spot  for  you  in 
our  hearts,  and  regard  your  case  in  sorrow  rather 
than  in  anger — and  as  probably  not  hopeless." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  us?" 

"  Oh,  everything.  You  are  a  failure  fundamen 
tally.  To  begin  with,  your  theory  of  life  is 
founded  on  compromise.  We  women — the  mod 
ern  woman — abhor  compromise." 

Although  it  was  obvious  that  Barbara  was  try 
ing  to  tease  me,  I  realized  from  her  expression 
that  she  intended  to  deal  my  sex  a  crucial  stab  by 
the  word  compromise.  I  must  confess  that  I  felt 
just  a  little  uncomfortable  under  the  white  light 
of  scorn  which  radiated  from  her  eyes,  while  her 
general  air  reminded  me  for  the  first  time  dis 
agreeably  of  the  type  of  modern  woman  to  whom 
I  had  referred. 

"  The  world  progresses  by  compromise,"  I  re 
plied,  sententiously. 

"  Yes,  like  a  snail." 

258 


The  Case  of  Man 


"  Otherwise  it  would  stand  still.  A  man  thinks 
so  and  so  ;  another  man  thinks  precisely  opposite ; 
they  meet  each  other  half-way  and  so  much  is 
gained." 

"  Oh,  I  know  how  they  do.  A  man  who  stands 
for  a  principle  meets  another 
man  ;  they  argue  and  bluster 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  pres- 


"  Have  something  to  eat  or  drink." 

ently  they  sit  down  and  have 
something  to  eat  or  drink,  and 
by  the  time  they  separate  the  man  who  stands 
for  a  principle  has  sacrificed  all  there  is  of  it,  ex 
cept  a  tiny  scrap  or  shred,  in  order  not  to  in 
commode  the  man  who  has  no  principles  at  all ; 
and  what  is  almost  worse,  they  part  seemingly 
bosom  friends  and  are  apt  to  exchange  rhetorical 
protestations  of  mutual  esteem.  The  modern 


The  Art  of  Living 


woman  has  no  patience  with  such  a  way  of  doing 
things." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  I,  "  that  two  modern  women 
under  similar  circumstances  would  tear  each  other 
all  to  pieces  ;  there  would  be  nothing  to  eat  or 
drink,  except  possibly  tea  and  wafers,  and  the 
floor  would  be  covered  with  fragments  of  skin, 
hair,  and  clothing.  When  they  separated  one 
would  be  dead  and  the  other  maimed  for  life,  and 
the  principle  for  which  the  victor  stood  would  be 
set  back  about  a  century  and  a  half." 

Barbara  winced  a  little,  but  she  said,  "  What 
have  you  men  accomplished  all  these  years  by 
your  everlasting  compromises  ?  If  you  were 
really  in  earnest  to  solve  the  liquor  problem,  and 
the  social  evil,  as  you  call  it,  and  all  the  other 
abuses  which  exist  in  civilized  and  uncivilized 
society,  you  would  certainly  have  been  able  to  do 
more  than  you  have.  You  have  had  free  scope ; 
we  haven't  been  consulted  ;  we  have  stood  aside 
and  let  you  have  your  innings;  now  we  merely 
wish  to  see  what  we  can  do.  We  shall  make  mis 
takes  I  dare  say ;  even  one  or  two  of  us  may  be 
torn  to  pieces  or  maimed  for  life  ;  but  the  mod 
ern  woman  feels  that  she  has  the  courage  of  her 
convictions  and  that  she  does  not  intend  to  let 
herself  be  thwarted  or  cajoled  by  masculine  theo 
ries.  That  accounts  largely  for  our  apparent  snif- 
finess.  I  say  '  apparent,'  because  we  are  not  really 

260 


The  Case  of  Man 


at  bottom  so  contemptuous  as  we  seem — even  the 
worst  of  us.  I  suppose  you  are  right  in  declar 
ing  that  the  proud,  superior,  and  beautiful  young 
person  of  the  present  day  is  a  little  disdainful. 
But  even  she  is  less  severe 
than  she  looks.  She  is  simply 
a  nineteenth -century  Joan  of 
Arc  protesting 
against  the  man  of 
the  world  and  his 
works,  asking  to 
be  allowed  to  lead  her  life 
without  molestation  from 
him  in  a  shrine  of  her  own 
tasteful  yet  simple  construc 
tion — rooms  or  a  room  where 
she  can  practise  her  calling, 
follow  her  tastes,  ambitions, 
or  hobbies,  pursue  her  char 
ities,  and  amuse  herself  with 
out  being  accountable  to 
him.  She  wishes  him  to  un 
derstand  that,  though  she  is 
attractive,  she  does  not  mean 
to  be  seduced  or  to  be  wor 
ried  into  matrimony  against  her  will,  and  that 
she  intends  to  use  her  earnings  and  her  property 
to  pay  her  own  bills  and  provide  for  her  own  grati 
fication,  instead  of  to  defray  the  debts  of  her 


"A  nineteenth-century  Joan  of  Arc." 


The  Art  of  Living 


vicious  or  easy-going  male  relations  or  admirers. 
There  is  really  a  long  back  account  to  settle,  so  it 
is  not  surprising  that  the  pendulum  should  swing 
a  little  too  far  the  other  way.  Of  course  she  is 
wrong;  woman  can  no  more  live  wholly  indepen 
dent  of  man  than  he  of  her — and  you  know  what 
a  helpless  being  he  would  be  without  her — and 
the  modern  woman  is  bound  to  recognize,  sooner 
or  later,  that  the  sympathetic  companionship  of 
women  with  men  is  the  only  basis  of  true  social 
progress.  Sexual  affinity  is  stronger  than  the 
constitutions  of  all  the  women's  clubs  combined, 
as  eight  out  of  ten  young  modern  women  discover 
to  their  cost,  or  rather  to  their  happiness,  sooner 
or  later.  Some  brute  of  a  man  breaks  into  the 
shrine,  and  before  she  knows  it  she  is  wheeling  a 
baby  carriage.  Even  the  novelist,  with  his  or  her 
fertile  invention,  has  failed  to  discover  any  really 
satisfactory  ending  for  the  independent,  disdain 
ful  heroine  but  marriage  or  the  grave.  Spinster- 
hood,  even  when  illumined  by  a  career,  is  a  wor 
thy  and  respectable  lot,  but  not  alluring." 

It  was  something  to  be  assured  by  my  wife  that 
the  modern  woman  does  not  purpose  to  abolish 
either  maternity  or  men,  and  that,  so  to  speak,  her 
bark  is  worse  than  her  bite.  Barbara  belongs  to 
a  woman's  club,  so  she  must  know.  We  men  are 
in  such  a  nervous  state,  as  a  result  of  what  Bar 
bara  calls  the  revolution,  that  very  likely  we  are 

262 


The  Case  of  Man 


unduly  sensitive  and  suspicious,  and  allow  our 
imaginations  to  fly  off  at  a  tangent.  Very  likely, 
too,  we  are  disposed  to  be  a  trifle  irritable,  for 
when  one  has  been  accustomed  for  long  to  sit  on 
or  club  a  person  (literally  or  metaphorically,  ac 
cording  to  one's  social  status)  when  she  happens 
to  express  sentiments  or  opinions  contrary  to  ours, 
it  must  needs  take  time  to  get  used  to  the  idea 
that  she  is  really  an  equal,  and  to  adjust  one's  rati 
ocinations  to  suit.  But  even  accepting  as  true  the 
assurance  that  the  forbidding  air  of  the  modern 
woman  does  not  mean  much,  and  that  she  loves  us 
still  though  she  has  ceased  to  worship  us,  we  have 
Barbara's  word  for  it,  too,  that  the  modern  woman 
thinks  we  have  made  a  mess  of  it  and  that  man  is 
a  failure  fundamentally.  Love  without  respect! 
Sorrow  rather  than  anger !  It  sobers  one  ;  it  sad 
dens  one.  For  we  must  admit  that  man  has  had 
free  scope  and  a  long  period  in  which  to  make  the 
most  of  himself ;  and  woman  has  not,  which  pre 
cludes  us  from  answering  back,  as  it  were,  which 
is  always  more  or  less  of  a  consolation  when  one 
is  brought  to  bay. 

A  tendency  to  compromise  is  certainly  one  of 
man's  characteristics.  Barbara  has  referred  to  it 
as  a  salient  fault — a  vice,  and  perhaps  it  is,  though 
it  is  writ  large  in  the  annals  of  civilization  as  con 
ducted  by  man.  We  must  at  least  agree  that  it  is 
not  woman's  way,  and  that  she  expects  to  do  with- 


The  Art  of  Living 


out  it  when  we  are  no  more  or  are  less  than  we 
are  now.  Probably  we  have  been  and  are  too 
easy-going,  and  no  one  will  deny  that  one  ought 
at  all  times  to  have  the  courage  of  one's  convic 
tions,  even  in  midsum 
mer  and  on  purely  so 
cial  occasions ;  neverthe 
less  it  would  have  been 
trying  to  the  nervous 
system  and  conducive  to 
the  continuance  and  in 
crease  of  standingarmies, 
had  we  favored  the  pol 
icy  of  shooting  at  sight 
those  whose  views  on 
the  temperance  question 
differed  from  ours,  or  of 
telling  the  host  at  whose 
house  we  had  passed  the 
evening  that  we  had  been 
bored  to  death. 
If  one  runs  over  in  his  mind  the  Madame  Tus- 
saud  Gallery  of  masculine  types,  he  cannot  fail  to 
acknowledge  that,  in  our  capacity  of  lords  of  crea 
tion  and  viceregents  of  Providence,  we  have  pro 
duced  and  perpetuated  a  number  of  sorry  speci 
mens.  First  in  the  list  stands  the  so-called  man 
of  the  world,  on  account  of  whom  in  particular, 
according  to  Barbara,  the  nineteenth-century  Joan 

26* 


The  so-called  man  of  the  world. 


—  v 

Telling  the   nost  that  we   had   been  bored  to  death 


The  Case  of  Man 


of  Arc  looks  askance  at  our  sex.  He  is  an  old 
stager;  he  dates  back  very  nearly,  if  not  com 
pletely,  to  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  he  has  always 
been  a  bugbear  to  woman.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
describe  him  ;  he  has  ever  stood  for  simply  carnal 
interests  and  appetites,  whether  as  a  satyr,  a  vo 
luptuary,  a  wine -bibber,  a  glutton,  a  miser,  an 
idler,  or  a  mere  pleasure-seeker.  If  all  the  human 
industries  which  have  owed  and  still  owe  their 
prosperity  to  his  propensities  were  to  be  obliter 
ated,  there  would  be  a  large  array  of  unemployed 
in  the  morning  but  a  healthier  world.  The  bully, 
or  prevailer  by  brute  force,  the  snob,  the  cynic, 
the  parasite,  the  trimmer,  and  the  conceited  ego 
tist  are  others  prominent  in  the  category,  without 
regard  to  criminals  and  unvarnished  offenders 
against  whose  noxious  behavior  men  have  pro 
tected  themselves  by  positive  law. 

On  the  other  hand,  our  gallery  of  past  types  has 
many  figures  of  which  we  have  a  right  to  be 
proud.  Unfortunately  we  are  barred  again  from 
comparison  or  answering  back  by  the  taunt  that 
woman  has  never  had  a  chance ;  nevertheless  we 
may  claim  for  what  it  is  worth  that,  in  the  realm 
of  intellect  or  of  the  spirit,  there  have  been  no 
women  who  have  soared  so  high  ;  seers,  poets, 
law-givers,  unfolders  of  nature's  secrets,  adminis 
trators  of  affairs,  healers  and  scholars  have  been 
chiefly  or  solely  men.  If  some  of  us  have  frater- 

267 


The  Art  of  Living 


nized  with  Belial,  others  have  walked,  or  sought 
to  walk,  with  God  no  less  genuinely  and  fervently 
than  any  woman  who  ever  breathed.  In  the  mat 
ter  of  spirituality,  indeed,  some  of  us  in  the  past 
having  been  led  to  believe  that  women  knew  more 
about  the  affairs  of  the  other  world  than  men, 
sought  to  cultivate  the  spindle-legged,  thin- 
chested,  pale,  anaemic 
Christian  as  the  type  of 
humanity  most  acceptable 
to  God  and  serviceable  to  soci 
ety  ;  but  we  have  gone  back  to 
the  bishop  of  sturdy  frame  and 
a  reasonably  healthy  appetite 
as  a  more  desirable  mediator 
between  ourselves  and  heaven. 
From  the  stand-point  of  our 
present  inquiry,  what  man  in 
his  various  types  has  been  in 
the  past  is  less  pertinent  than 
what  he  is  at  present.  To  be 
gin  with,  certainly  the  modern 
man  is  not  a  picturesque  figure. 
He  no  longer  appeals  to  the 
feminine  or  any  eye  by  virtue 
of  imposing  apparel  or  accoutrements.  Foreign 
army  officers  and  servants  in  livery  are  almost  the 
only  males  who  have  not  exchanged  plumage  for 
sober  woollens,  tweeds,  or  serges,  and  the  varied 


Not  a  picturesque  figure. 


268 


The  Case  of  Man 


Foreign  army  officers. 

resplendent  materials  and  colors  by  means  of 
which  men  used  to  distinguish  themselves  from 
one  another  and  to  negative  their  evil-doings  in 
the  eyes  of  women  have  been  discarded.  All  men 
but  one  look  alike  to  any  woman,  and  even  that 
one  is  liable  to  be  confounded  with  the  rest  of 
mankind  when  he  is  more  than  half  a  block  away. 
Nor  is  the  homogeneous  tendency  limited  to 
clothes  ;  it  includes  manners,  morals,  and  point  of 
view.  The  extreme  types  approximate  each  other 
much  more  closely  than  formerly,  and  apart  from 
criminals  and  deliberately  evil-minded  persons, 
women  have  some  ground  for  their  insinuation 

269 


The  Art  of  Living 


that  we  are  all  pretty  much  alike.  Let  it  be  said 
that  this  effect  is  in  one  sense  a  feather  in  our  caps. 
The  nineteenth-century  Joan  of  Arc  to  the  con- 
trary  notwithstanding,  the  modern  man  of  the 
world  is  a  manifest  improvement  on  his  prede 
cessor.  He  is  no  longer  to  be  found  under  the 
table  after  dinner  as  a  social  matter  of  course,  and 
three-bottles-to-a-guest  festivities  have  ceased  to 
be  an  aristocratic  function.  Though  on  occasions 
still  he  will  fumble  with  the  latch-key,  he  mounts 
the  stairs  very  little,  if  at  all,  after  midnight  with 
the  nonchalance  of  self-congratulatory  sobriety, 
and  all  those  dire  scenes  of  woman  on  the  stair 
case  with  a  lighted  candle  looking  down  at  her 
prostrate  lord  and  master  belong  to  an  almost 
dim  past.  True  it  may  be  that  the  man  of  the 
world  fears  God  no  more  than  formerly,  but  he 
has  learned  to  have  a  wholesome  dread  of  Bright's 
disease,  the  insane  asylum,  and  those  varied  forms 
of  sudden  and  premature  death  which  are  in 
cluded  under  the  reportorial  head  of  heart-failure. 
Mere  brutishness  in  its  various  forms  is  less  ap 
parent.  The  coarse  materialist  still  swaggers  in 
public  places  and  impudently  puffs  a  cigar  in  the 
face  of  modesty,  but  he  serves  no  longer  as  a 
model  for  envious  contemporaries  or  an  object  of 
hero-worship  to  the  rising  generation.  Good  taste, 
if  nothing  better,  has  checked  man's  tendencies 
to  make  a  beast  of  himself  in  public  or  in  private. 


The  Case  of  Man 


Similarly,  also,  the  type  of  man  to  whom  we 
look  up  most  proudly  and  confidently  to-day  is 
not  altogether  the  same.  The  model  whom  we 
were  urged,  and  whom  we  sought  of  old  to  imi 
tate,  was  he  who  wrestled  with  God  on  the 
mountain-top,  without  a  thought  of  earth's  smoke 
and  din  and  wretchedness.  Human  life  and  its 
joys  and  interests  served  for  him  as  a  homily  on 
vanity,  or  was  regarded  as  a  degradation  in  com 
parison  with  the  revelations  obtained  by  the 
priest,  poet,  or  devotee  of  culture  through  the 
vista  of  aspiring  imagination  or  zeal.  The  con 
servative  man  of  affairs — vigorous,  far-seeing, 
keenly  alive  to  the  joys  and  interests  of  this  life, 
strongly  sympathetic  on  the  humanitarian  side,  a 
man  of  the  world  withal  in  a  reasonable  sense — 
has  impressed  his  personality  on  modern  society 
more  successfully  than  any  other  type.  The 
priest  who  cares  not  for  his  fellow-man,  the  poet 
whose  dreams  and  visions  include  no  human  in 
terest  or  passion,  the  devotee  of  culture  who  re 
fines  merely  to  refine,  have  been  superseded, 
and  in  their  stead  we  have  the  man  of  the 
world  who  is  interested  in  the  world  and  for  the 
world. 

This  change  in  the  avowed  aims  and  aspira 
tions  of  man  has  not  been  without  certain  appar 
ently  melancholy  results  and  manifestations  of 
which  society  is  feeling  the  effect  at  present,  and 


The  Art  of  Living 


which  if  allowed  to  prevail  too  far  will  undo  us. 
The  removal  of  the  gaze  of  the  priest,  poet,  and 
devotee  of  culture  from  the  stars  in  contempt  of 
earth,  and  the  substitution  of  earth-gazing  as  a 
method  for  understanding  the  stars,  has  seemed 
to  cast  a  damper  on  human  imagination  and  has 
thereby  caused  many  excellent  women  and  some 
men  to  weep.  If  materialism  be  the  science  of 
trying  to  get  the  most  out  of  this  life,  this  is  a 
material  age ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  should  be 
remembered  that  man  in  this  age  has  ceased  for 
the  first  time  to  be  either  a  hypocrite  or  a  fool. 
Undoubtedly  the  process  of  becoming  both  sin 
cere  and  sensible,  especially  as  it  has  substituted 
concern  for  the  ignorant,  the  oppressed,  and  the 
vicious  of  this  earth  about  whom  we  know  next 
to  nothing,  in  place  of  Pre-Raphaelite  heavenly 
choirs,  alabaster  halls,  and  saints  in  glory  about 
whom  we  thought  we  knew  everything,  has  been 
a  little  trying  for  the  rest  of  us  as  well  as  for  the 
priests,  poets,  and  devotees  of  culture.  But  the 
women  must  not  be  discouraged  ;  we  shall  grow 
to  the  situation  in  time,  and  even  the  poets,  who 
seem  to  be  most  down  in  the  mouth  at  present, 
will  sooner  or  later  find  a  fresh  well  of  inspiration 
by  learning  to  study  the  reflection  of  the  stars  on 
the  earth  instead  of  looking  directly  at  them.  Let 
them  be  patient,  though  it  be  to  death,  and  some 
day  through  others,  if  not  through  themselves,  the 


ihe  Case  of  Man 


immortal  verse  will  flow  and  the  immortal  lyre 
sound  again. 

Undoubtedly  the  modern  man  is  at  present  a 
rather  trying  person  to  woman,  for  woman  would 
have  been  glad,  now  that  she  is  coming  into 
her  kingdom,  to  have  him 
more  of  a  crusader  and 
less  of  a  philosopher.  To 
behold  him  lacking  in 
picturesqueness  and  a  phi 
losopher  addicted  to  com- 


Ordinarily  he  is  sleepy  in  the  evening. 

promise  into  the  bargain  is  almost  irritating  to 
her,  and  she  has  certainly  some  ground  for  crit 
icism.  The  man  who  sits  opposite  to  her  at  the 
breakfast-table,  even  after  he  has  overcome  con 
servative  fears  of  nothing  to  live  on  and  dawdled 
into  matrimony,  is  a  lovable  but  not  especially 


The  Art  of  Living 


exciting  person.  He  eats,  works,  and  sleeps,  does 
most  of  the  things  which  he  ought  to  do  and 
leaves  undone  a  commendable  number  of  the 
things  which  he  ought  not  to  do,  and  is  a  rather 
respectable  member  of  society  of  the  machine- 
made  order.  He  works  very  hard  to  supply  her 
with  money ;  he  is  kind  to  her  and 
the  children  ;  he  gives  her 
her  head,  as  he  calls 
it ;  and  he  ac 
quiesces 


cups  of  tea. 


antly  enough  in  the 
social  plans  which 
she  entertains  for 
herself  and  him,  and 
ordinarily  he  is 
sleepy  in  the  even 
ing.  Indeed,  in  mo 
ments  of  most  serious  depression  she  is  tempt 
ed  to  think  of  him  as  a  superior  choreman,  a 
comparison  which  haunts  her  even  in  church. 
She  would  like,  with  one  fell  swoop  of  her  broom, 
to  clear  the  world  of  the  social  evil,  the  fruit  of 
the  grape,  tobacco,  and  playing  cards,  to  intro 
duce  drastic  educational  reforms  which  would, 


The  Case  of  Man 


by  kindergarten  methods,  familiarize  every  one 
on  earth  with  art  and  culture,  and  to  bring  to 
pass  within  five,  or  possibly  six  years,  a  golden 
age  of  absolute  reform  inspired  and  established 
by  woman.  Life  for  her  at  present  means  one 
vast  camp  of  committee  meetings,  varied  only  by 
frequent  cups  of  tea ;  and  that  steaming  beverage 
continues  prominent  in  her  radiant  vision  of  the 
coming  millennium.  No  wonder  it  disconcerts 
and  annoys  her  to  find  so  comparatively  little  en 
thusiastic  confidence  in  the  immediate  success  of 
her  fell  swoop,  and  to  have  her  pathway  blocked 
by  grave  or  lazy  ifs  and  buts  and  by  cold  contra 
dictions  of  fact.  No  wonder  she  abhors  com 
promise  ;  no  wonder  she  ^  regards  the  man 
who  goes  on  using 
tobacco  and  play 
ing  cards  and 
drinking  things 
stronger  than  tea 
as  an  inert  and  soulless 
creature. 

Yet  smile  as  we  may  at 
the  dull,  sorry  place  the 
world  would  be  were  the 
golden  age  of  her  inten 
tion  to  come  upon  us  over 
night  like  a  cold  wave,  is 
she  not  justified  in  regard- 

*  With  one  fell 

*75  swoop  of  her  broom. 


The  Art  of  Living 


ing  the  average  custom-made  man  of  the  day  as  a 
highly  respectable,  well-to-do  choreman  who  earns 
fair  wages  and  goes  to  sleep  at  night  contented 
with  a  good  meal  and  a  pipe  ?  Is  he  not  machine- 
made  ?  Sincere  and  wise  as  he  is,  now  that  his 
gaze  is  fixed  on  the  needs  of  earth,  has  he  not  the 
philosophy  of  hygienic  comfort  and  easy-going 
conservative  materialism  so  completely  on  the 
brain  that  he  is  in  danger  of  becoming  ordinary 
instead  of  just  a  little  lower  than  the  angels  ? 
Let  us  consider  him  from  this  point  of  view  more 
in  detail. 


II 


THE  young  man  of  the  present  era  on  his  twen 
ty-first  birthday  is  apt  to  find  himself  in  a  very 
prudent  and  conservative  atmosphere.  The  dif 
ficulties  of  getting  on  are  explained  to  him  ;  he 
is  properly  assured  that,  though  there  is  plenty 
of  room  on  the  top  benches,  the  occupations 
and  professions  are  crowded,  if  not  overcrowded, 
and  that  he  must  buckle  down  if  he  would  suc 
ceed.  It  is  obvious  to  him  that  the  field  of 
adventure  and  fortune  -  seeking .  in  foreign  or 
strange  places  is  practically  exhausted.  It  is 
open  to  him,  to  be  sure,  to  go  to  the  North 
Pole  in  search  of  some  one  already  there,  or  to 
study  in  a  cage  in  the  jungles  of  Africa  the  lin- 

376 


The  Case  of  Man 


guistic  value  of  the  howls  and  chatterings  of  wild 
animals ;  but  these  are  manifestly  poor  pickings 
compared  with  the  opportunities  of  the  past 
when  a  considerable  portion  of  the  globe  was  still 
uninvestigated  soil,  and  a  reputation  or  treasure- 
trove  was  the  tolerably  frequent  reward  of  leav 
ing  the  rut  of  civilized  life.  It  is  plainly  pointed 
out  to  him,  too,  that  to  be  florid  is  regarded  as 
almost  a  mental  weakness  in  intellectual  or  pro 
gressive  circles.  He  sees  the  lawyer  who  makes 
use  of  metaphor,  bombast,  and  the  other  arts  of 
oratory,  which  used  to  captivate  and  convince, 
distanced  in  the  race  for  eminence  by  him  who 
employs  a  succinct,  dispassionate,  and  almost  col 
loquial  form  of  statement.  He  recognizes  that 
in  every  department  of  human  activity,  from  the 
investigation  of  disease-germs  to  the  management 
of  railroads,  steady,  undemonstrative  marshal- 
lings  of  fact,  and  cautious,  unemotional  deduction 
therefrom  are  considered  the  scientific  and  only 
appropriate  method.  He  knows  that  the  expres 
sion  of  unusual  or  erratic  ideas  will  expose  him 
to  the  stigma  of  being  a  crank,  a  reputation 
which,  once  acquired,  sticks  like  pitch,  and  that 
the  betrayal  of  sentiment  will  induce  conservative 
people  to  put  him  on  the  suspected  list. 

All  this  is  imbibed  by  him  as  it  should  be,  in 
the  interest  of  sincerity  and  sense.  Under  the 
sobering  restraint  of  it  the  young  man  begins  to 


The  Art  of  Living 


make  his  way  with  enthusiasm  and  energy,  but 
circumspectly  and  deliberately.  He  mistrusts 
everything  that  he  cannot  pick  to  pieces  on  the 
spot  and  analyze,  and  though  he  is  willing  to  be 
amused,  beguiled,  or  even  temporarily  inspired 
by  appeals  to  his  imagination  or  emotions,  he  puts 
his  doubts  or  qualms  aside  next  morning  at  the 
behest  of  business.  He  wishes  to  get  on.  He  is 
determined  not  to  allow  anything  to  interfere  with 
that,  and  he  understands  that  that  is  to  be  accom 
plished  partly  by  hard  work  and  partly  by  becom 
ing  a  good  fellow  and  showing  common-sense. 
This  is  excellent  reasoning  until  one  examines  too 
closely  what  is  expected  of  him  as  a  good  fellow, 
and  what  is  required  of  him  in  the  name  of  com 
mon-sense. 

There  have  been  good  fellows  in  every  age,  and 
some  of  them  have  been  tough  specimens.  Our 
good  fellow  is  almost  highly  respectable.  He 
wishes  to  live  as  long  as  he  can,  and  to  let  others 
live  as  long  as  they  can.  His  patron  saints 
are  his  doctor,  his  bank  account,  prudence,  and 
general  toleration.  If  he  were  obliged  to  specify 
the  vice  not  covered  by  the  statute  law  which  he 
most  abhors,  he  would  probably  name  slopping 
over.  He  aims  to  be  genial,  sympathetic,  and 
knowing,  but  not  obtrusively  so,  and  he  is  becom 
ingly  suspicious  and  reticent  regarding  every 
thing  which  cannot  be  demonstrated  on  a  chart 

278 


The  Case  of  Man 


like  an  international  yacht-race  or  a  medical  oper 
ation.  He  is  quietly  and  moderately  licentious, 
and  justifies  himself  satisfactorily  but  mournfully 
on  hygienic  grounds  or  on  the  plea  of  masculine 
inevitability.  He  works  hard,  if  he  has  to,  for  he 
wishes  to  live  comfortably  by  the  time  he  is  forty, 
and  comfort  means,  as  it  ought  to  mean,  an  attrac 
tive  wife,  an  attractive  establishment,  and  an  at 
tractive  income.  An  imprudent  marriage  seems 
to  him  one  of  the  most  egregious  forms  of  slop 
ping  over.  If  he  hears  that  two  of  his  contem 
poraries  are  engaged,  his  first  inquiry  is,  "  What 
have  they  to  live  on  ?  "  and  if  the  answer  is  un 
satisfactory,  they  fall  a  peg  or  two  in  his  estima 
tion,  and  he  is  likely,  the  next  time  he  feels  mel 
low  after  dinner,  to  descant  on  the  impropriety  of 
bringing  children  into  the  world  who  may  be  left 
penniless  orphans.  If  he  falls  in  love  himself  be 
fore  he  feels  that  his  pecuniary  position  warrants 
it,  he  tries  to  shake  out  the  arrow,  and,  if  that 
fails,  he  cuts  it  out  deliberately  under  antiseptic 
treatment  to  avoid  blood-poisoning.  All  our 
large  cities  are  full  of  young  men  who  have  un 
dergone  this  operation.  To  lose  one's  vermiform 
appendix  is  a  perilous  yet  blessed  experience ; 
but  this  trifling  with  the  human  heart,  however 
scientific  the  excision,  can  scarcely  be  regarded 
as  beneficial  unless  we  are  to  assume  that  it,  like 
the  fashionable  sac,  has  become  rudimentary. 

279 


The  Art  of  Living 


We  see  a  great  many  allusions  in  our  comic  and 
satiric  weeklies  to  marrying  for  money,  but  the 
good  fellow  of  the  best  type  ordinarily  disdains 
such  a  proceeding.  His  self-respect  is  not  of 
fended  but  hugely  gratified  if  the  young  woman 
with  whom  he  intends  to  ally  himself  would  be 
able  immediately  or  prospectively  to  contribute  a 
million  or  so  to  the  domestic  purse  ;  but  he  would 
regard  a  deliberate  sale  of  himself  for  cash  as  a 
dirty  piece  of  business.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is 
very  business-like  where  his  heart  is  engaged,  and 
is  careful  not  to  let  his  emotions  or  fancy  get  the 
better  of  him  until  he  can  see  his  ship — and  a  well- 
freighted  one  at  that — on  the  near  horizon.  And 
what  is  to  become  of  the  young  woman  in  the 
meantime?  To  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  in 
the  bud,  feed  on  a  damask  cheek  may  be  more 
fatal  than  masculine  arrow  extraction  ;  for  woman, 
less  scientific  in  her  methods  than  man,  is  less  able 
to  avoid  blood-poisoning.  She  doses  herself,  prob 
ably,  with  antipyrine,  burns  her  Emerson  and  her 
Tennyson,  and  after  a  period  of  nervous  prostra 
tion  devotes  herself  to  charity  toward  the  world 
at  large  with  the  exception  of  all  good  fellows. 

The  good  fellow  after  he  marries  continues  to  be 
a  good  fellow.  He  adapts  himself  to  the  human 
itarian  necessities  of  the  situation ;  he  becomes 
fond  and  domestic,  almost  oppressively  so,  and 
he  is  eager  to  indulge  the  slightest  wish  or  fancy 

280 


A  Welsh-rarebit  with  theatrical  celebrities. 


The  Case  of  Man 


of  his  mate,  provided  it  be  within  the  bounds  of 
easy-going  rationalism.  The  conjugal  pliability 
of  the  American  husband  is  a  well-recognized 
original  feature  of  our  institutions,  nevertheless 
he  is  apt  to  develop  kinks  unless  he  be  allowed  to 
be  indulgent  and  companionable  in  his  own  way. 
He  works  harder  than  ever,  and  she  for  whose 
sake  he  is  ostensibly  toiling  is  encouraged  to  make 
herself  fetching  and  him  comfortable  as  progres 
sively  as  his  income  will  permit.  When  the  toil 
of  the  week  is  over  he  looks  for  his  reward  in  the 
form  of  a  Welsh-rarebit  with  theatrical  celebri 
ties,  a  little  game  of  poker  within  his  means,  or, 
if  he  be  musical,  a  small  gathering  of  friends  to 
sing  or  play,  if  possible  in  a  so-called  Bohemian 
spirit.  It  irks  him  to  stand  very  upright  or  to  con 
verse  for  long,  whether  in  masculine  or  feminine 
society.  He  likes  to  sprawl  and  to  be  enter 
tained  with  the  latest  bit  of  humor,  but  he  is  \vill- 
ing,  on  a  pleasant  Sunday  or  holiday,  to  take 
exercise  in  order  to  perspire  freely,  and  then  to 
lie  at  ease  under  a  tree  or  a  bank,  pleasantly  re 
freshed  with  beer  and  tobacco,  and  at  peace  with 
the  world.  He  prefers  to  have  her  with  him 
everywhere,  except  at  the  little  game  of  poker, 
and  is  conscious  of  an  aching  void  if  she  be  not 
at  hand  to  help  him  recuperate,  philosophize,  and 
admire  the  view.  But  he  expects  her  to  do  what 
he  likes,  and  expects  her  to  like  it  too. 

383 


The  Art  of  Living 


In  no  age  of  the  world  has  the  reasoning  power 
of  man  been  in  better  working  order  than  at  pres 
ent.  With  all  due  respect  to  the  statistics  which 
show  that  the  female  is  beginning  to  outstrip  the 
male  in  academic  com 
petitive  examinations, 
one  has  only  to  keep 
his  ears  and  eyes  open 
in  the  workaday  world 
in  order  to  be  convinced 


A  little  game  of  poker  within  his  means. 

that  man's  purely  mental  processes  suggest  a  ra 
zor  and  woman's  a  corkscrew.  The  manager  of 
corporate  interests,  the  lawyer,  the  historian,  the 
physician,  the  chemist,  and  the  banker  seek  to-day 
to  probe  to  the  bottom  that  which  they  touch,  and 
to  expose  to  the  acid  of  truth  every  rosy  theory 


The  Case  of  Man 


and  seductive  prospectus.  This  is  in  the  line  of 
progress  ;  but  to  be  satisfied  with  this  alone  would 
speedily  reduce  human  society  to  the  status  of  a 
highly  organized  racing  stable.  If  man  is  to  be 
merely  a  jockey,  who  is  to  ride  as  light  as  he  can, 
there  is  nothing  to  be  said ;  but  even  on  that 
theory  is  it  not  possible  to  train  too  fine  ?  With 
eloquence  tabooed  as  savoring  of  insincerity,  with 
conversation  as  a  fine  art  starved  to  death,  with 
melody  in  music  sniffed  at  as  sensational,  and 
fancy  in  literature  condemned  as  unscientific,  with 
the  loosening  of  all  the  bonds  of  conventionality 
which  held  civilization  up  to  the  mark  in  matters 
of  taste  and  elegance,  and  with  a  general  doing 
away  with  color  and  emotion  in  all  the  practical 
affairs  of  life  out  of  regard  to  the  gospel  of  com 
mon-sense  and  machine-made  utility,  the  jockey 
now  is  riding  practically  in  his  own  skin. 

One  has  to  go  back  but  a  little  way  in  order  to 
encounter  among  the  moving  spirits  of  society  a 
radically  different  attitude.  Unquestionably  the 
temper  of  the  present  day  is  the  result  of  a  vigor 
ous  reaction  against  false  or  maudlin  sentiment, 
florid  drivel,  and  hypocritical  posturing;  but  cer 
tainly  a  Welsh-rarebit  at  midnight,  with  easy-go 
ing  companions,  is  a  far  remove  as  a  spiritual 
stimulus  from  bread  eaten  in  tears  at  the  same 
hour.  As  has  been  intimated,  this  exaggeration  of 
commonplaceness  will  probably  right  itself  in  time, 

285 


The  Art  of  Living 


but  man's  lack  of  susceptibility  to  influences  and 
impressions  which  cannot  be  weighed,  fingered, 
smelt,  looked  at,  or  tasted,  seems  to  justify  at 
present  the  strictures  of  the  modern  woman,  who, 
with  all  her  bumptiousness,  would  fain  continue 
to  reverence  him.  Some  in  the  van  of  feminine 
progress  would  be  glad  to  see  the  inspiration  and 
direction  of  all  matters — spiritual,  artistic,  and  so 
cial — apportioned  to  woman  as  her  sole  rightful 
prerogative,  and  consequently  to  see  man  become 
veritably  a  superior  choreman.  Fortunately  the 
world  of  men  and  women  are  likely  to  agree  with 
Barbara  that  mutual  sympathy  and  co-operation 
in  these  matters  between  the  sexes  are  indispen 
sable  to  the  healthy  development  of  human  society. 
But  even  assuming  that  women  were  ready  to 
accept  the  responsibility  and  man  were  willing  to 
renounce  it,  I,  for  one,  fear  that  civilization  would 
find  itself  in  a  ditch  rather  speedily.  All  of  us — 
we  men,  I  mean — recognize  the  purifying  and  de 
terrent  influence  of  woman  as  a  Mentor  and  sweet 
critic  at  our  elbows.  We  have  learned  to  depend 
upon  her  to  prod  us -when  we  lag,  and  to  save  us 
from  ourselves  when  our  brains  get  the  better  of 
our  hearts.  But,  after  all,  woman  is  a  clinging 
creature.  She  has  been  used  to  playing  second 
fiddle ;  and  it  is  quite  a  different  affair  to  lead  an 
orchestra.  To  point  the  way  to  spiritual  or  artis 
tic  progress  needs,  first  of  all,  a  clear  intellect  and 

286 


The  Case  of  Man 


a  firm  purpose,  even  though  they  alone  are  not 
sufficient.  Woman  is  essentially  yielding  and  im 
pressionable.  At  the  very  moment  when  the  mod 
ern  Joan  of  Arc  would  be  doing  her  best  to  make 
the  world  a  better  place,  would  not  eleven  other 
women  out  of  the  dozen  be  giving  way  to  the  cap 
tivating  plausibility  of  some  emotional  situation  ? 

As  an  instance  of  what  she  is  already  capable  of 
from  a  social  point  of  view,  now  that  she  has  been 
given  her  head,  may  well  be  cited  the  feverish 
eagerness  with  which  some  of  the  most  highly 
cultivated  and  most  subtly  evolved  American 
women  of  our  large  cities  vie  with  each  other  for 
intimacy  with  artistic  foreign  lions  of  their  own 
sex  known  to  be  unchaste.  They  seem  to  regard 
it  as  a  privilege  to  play  hostess  to,  or,  at  least,  to 
be  on  familiar  terms  with,  actresses,  opera-singers, 
and  other  public  characters  quietly  but  notoriously 
erotic,  the  plea  in  each  case  being  that  they  are 
ready  to  forgive,  to  forget,  and  ignore  for  the  sake 
of  art  and  the  artist.  Yes,  ignore  or  forget,  if  you 
choose,  so  far  as  seeing  the  artist  act  or  hearing 
her  sing  in  public  is  concerned,  where  there  are 
no  social  ceremonies  or  intercourse  ;  but  let  us 
please  remember  at  the  same  time  that  even  those 
effete  nations  who  believe  that  the  world  would 
be  a  dull  place  without  courtesans,  insist  on  ex 
cluding  such  persons  from  their  drawing-rooms. 
Indeed  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  some  of  the 

287 


The  Art  of  Living 


artists  in  question  have  become  hilarious,  when 
out  of  sight  of  our  hospitable  shores,  over  the 
wonders  of  American  social  usages  among  the 
pure  and  cultivated  women.  Before  our  young 


Foreign  lions  of  their  own  sex. 


men  will  cease  to  sow  wild  oats  their  female  rela 
tions  must  cease  to  run  after  other  men's  mis 
tresses.  Decidedly,  the  modern  Joan  of  Arc  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding,  man  cannot  afford 
to  abdicate  just  yet.  But  he  needs  to  mend  his 
hedges  and  to  look  after  his  preserves. 


THE   CASE   OF  WOMAN 


A  GREAT  many  men,  who  are  sane  and  reason 
able  in  other  matters,  allow  themselves,  on 
the  slightest  provocation,  to  be  worked  up  into  a 
fever  over  the  aspirations  of  woman.  They  decline 
to  listen  to  argument,  grow  red  in  the  face,  and 
saw  the  air  with  their  hands,  if  they  do  not  pound 
on  the  table,  to  express  their  views  on  the  subject 
—which,  by  the  way,  are  as  out  of  date  and  old- 
fashioned  as  a  pine-tree  shilling.  They  remind 
one  of  the  ostrich  in  that  they  seem  to  imagine, 
because  they  have  buried  their  heads  in  the  sand, 
nothing  has  happened  or  is  happening  around 
them.  They  confront  the  problem  of  woman's 
emancipation  as  though  it  were  only  just  being 
broached  instead  of  in  the  throes  of  delivery. 

For  instance,  my  friend,  Mr.  Julius  Cassar,  who 
though  a  conservative,  cautious  man  by  nature,  is 
agreeably  and  commendably  liberal  in  other  mat 
ters,  seems  to  be  able  to  see  only  one  side  of  this 
question.  And  one  side  seems  to  be  all  he  wishes 
to  see.  "  Take  my  wife,"  he  said  to  me  the  other 
day  ;  "  as  women  go  she  is  a  very  clever  and  sensi- 

289 


The  Art  of  Living 


ble  woman.  She 
was  given  the  best  ad 
vantages  in  the  way  of 
school-training  open  to 
young  ladies  of  her 
day  ;  she  has  ac 
complishments,  do 
mestic  virtues,  and 
fine  religious  in 
stincts,  and  I 
adore  her.  But 
what  does  she 
know  of  politics  ? 
She  couldn't  tell 
you  the  difference 
between  a  sena 
tor  and  an  alder 
man,  and  her 
mind  is  practical 
ly  a  blank  on  the  tariff  or  the  silver  question.  I 
tell  you,  my  dear  fellow,  that  if  woman  is  allowed 
to  leave  the  domestic  hearth  and  play  ducks  and 
drakes  with  the  right  of  suffrage,  every  political 
caucus  will  become  a  retail  drygoods  store.  If 


The  Case  of  Woman 


there  is  one  thing  which  makes  a  philosopher  de 
spair  of  the  future  of  the  race,  it  is  to  stand  in  a 
crowded  drygoods  store  and  watch  the  jam  of 
women  perk  and  push  and  sidle  and  grab  and 
covet  and  go  well-nigh  crazy  over  things  to  wear. 
The  average  woman  knows  about  clothes,  the 
next  world,  children,  and  her  domestic  duties. 
Let  her  stick  to  her  sphere.  A  woman  at  a  cau 
cus  ?  Who  would  see  that  my  dinner  was  properly 
cooked,  eh  ?  " 

One  would  suppose  from  these  remarks  that  the 
male  American  citizen  spends  his  days  chiefly  at 
caucuses ;  whereas,  as  we  all  know  when  we  re 
flect,  he  goes  perhaps  twice  a  year,  if  he  be  a  punc 
tilious  patriot  like  Julius  Caesar,  and  if  not,  proba 
bly  does  not  go  at  all.  If  the  consciousness  that 
his  wife  could  vote  at  a  caucus  would  act  as  a  spur 
to  the  masculine  political  conscience,  the  male 
American  citizen  could  well  afford  to  dine  at  a 
restaurant  on  election-days,  or  to  cook  his  own 
food  now  and  then. 

Of  course,  even  a  man  with  views  like  Julius 
Caasar  would  be  sorry  to  have  his  wife  the  slav 
ish,  dollish,  or  unenlightened  individual  which 
she  was  apt  to  be  before  so-called  women's  rights 
were  heard  of.  As  he  himself  has  proclaimed, 
he  adores  his  wife,  and  he  is,  moreover,  secretly 
proud  of  her  aesthetic  presentability.  Without 
being  an  advanced  woman,  Dolly  Caesar  has  the 


The  Art  of  Living 


interests  of  the  day  and  hour  at  her  fingers'  ends, 
can  talk  intelligently  on  any  subject,  whether  she 

knows  anything 
fegg 


about  it  or  not, 
and  is  decidedly 
in  the  van,  though 
she  is  not  a  leader. 
Julius  does  not 
take  into  account, 
when  he  anathe 
matizes  the  sex  be 
cause  of  its  ambitions,  the 
difference  between  her 
and  her  great-grandmoth 
er.  He  believes  his  wife 
to  be  a  very  charming 
specimen  of  what  a  wom 
an  ought  to  be,  and  that, 
barring  a  few  differences  of 
costume  and  hair  arrange 
ment,  she  is  practically  her 
great-grandmother  over 
again.  Fatuous  Julius! 
There  is  where  he  is  des 
perately  in  error.  Dolly 
Caesar's  great-grandmother  may  have  been  a  radi 
ant  beauty  and  a  famous  housekeeper,  but  her  brain 
never  harbored  one -tenth  of  the  ideas  and  opin 
ions  which  make  her  descendant  so  attractive. 


Dolly  Caesar's  great-grandmother 
may  have  been  a  radiant  beauty. 


The  Case  of  Woman 


Those  who  argue  on  this  matter  like  Julius 
Cassar  fail  to  take  into  account  the  gradual,  silent 
results  of  time ;  and  this  is  true  of  the  results  to 
come  as  well  as  those  which  have  accrued.  When 
the  suffrage  question  is  mooted  one  often  hears 
sober  men,  more  dispassionate  men  than  Julius — 
Perkins,  for  instance,  the  thin,  nervous  lawyer  and 
father  of  four  girls,  and  a  sober  man  indeed — ask 
judicially  whether  it  is  possible  for  female  suffrage 
to  be  a  success  when  not  one  woman  in  a  thousand 
would  know  what  was  expected  of  her,  or  how  to 
vote.  "  I  tell  you,"  says  Perkins,  "  they  are  ut 
terly  unfitted  for  it  by  training  and  education. 
Four-fifths  of  them  wouldn't  vote  if  they  were  al 
lowed  to,  and  everyone  knows  that  ninety-nine 
women  out  of  every  hundred  are  profoundly  ig 
norant  of  the  matters  in  regard  to  which  they 
would  cast  their  ballots.  Take  my  daughters; 
fine  girls,  talented,  intelligent  women — one  of 
them  a  student  of  history  ;  but  what  do  they  know 
of  parties,  and  platforms,  and  political  issues  in 
general?  " 

Perkins  is  less  violently  prejudiced  than  Julius 
Cassar.  He  neither  saws  the  air  nor  pounds  on 
the  table.  Indeed,  I  have  no  doubt  he  believes 
that  he  entertains  liberal,  unbiassed  views  on  the 
subject.  I  wonder,  then,  why  it  never  occurs  to 
him  that  everything  which  is  new  is  adopted 
gradually,  and  that  the  world  has  to  get  accus- 

293 


The  Art  of  Living 


tomed  to  all  novel  situations.  I  happened  to  see 
Mr.  Perkins  the  first  time  he  rode  a  bicycle  on 
the  road,  and  his  performance  certainly  justified 
the  prediction  that  he  would  look  like  a  guy  to 


The  first  time  he  rode  a  bicycle. 

the  end  of  his  days,  and  yet  he  glides  past  me 
now  with  the  ease  and  nonchalance  of  a  possible 
"  scorcher."  Similarly,  if  women  were  given  uni 
versal  suffrage,  there  would  be  a  deal  of  fluttering 
in  the  dove-cotes  for  the  first  generation  or  so. 
Doubtless  four-fifths  of  womankind  would  refuse 
or  neglect  to  vote  at  all,  and  at  least  a  quarter  of 
those  who  went  to  the  polls  would  cast  their  bal 
lots  as  tools  or  blindly.  But  just  so  soon  as  it 

294 


The  Case  of  Woman 


was  understood  that  it  was  no  less  a  woman's  duty 
to  vote  than  it  was  to  attend  to  her  back  hair,  she 
would  be  educated  from  that  point  of  view,  and 
her  present  crass  ignorance  of  political  matters 
would  be  changed  into  at  least  a  form  of  enlight 
enment.  Man  prides  himself  on  his  logic,  but 
there  is  nothing  logical  in  the  argument  that  be 
cause  a  woman  knows  nothing  about  anything 
now,  she  can  never  be  taught.  If  we  have  been 
content  to  have  her  remain  ignorant  for  so  many 
centuries,  does  it  not  savor  both  of  despotism  and 

lack  of  reasonableness  to 
cast  her  ignorance  in  her 
teeth  and  to  beat  her  about 
the  head  with  it  now  that 
she  is  eager  to  rise  ?  DO- 


cast  her  ignorance  in  her  teeth. 
295 


The  Art  of  Living 


cidedly  it  is  high  time  for  the  man  who  orates 
tempestuously  or  argues  dogmatically  in  the  name 
of  conservatism  against  the  cause  of  woman  on 
such  flimsy  pleas  as  these,  to  cease  his  gesticula 
tions  and  wise  saws.  The  modern  woman  is  a 
potential  reality,  who  is  bound  to  develop  and 
improve,  in  another  generation  or  two,  as  far  be 
yond  the  present  interesting  type  as  Mrs.  Julius 
Cassar  is  an  advance  on  her  great-grandmother. 

On  the  other  hand,  why  do  those  who  have 
woman's  cause  at  heart  lay  such  formal  stress  on 
the  right  of  the  ballot  as  a  factor  in  her  develop 
ment?  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  if  the  ma 
jority  of  women  wish  to  vote  on  questions  involv 
ing  property  or  political  interests,  they  will  be 
enabled  to  do  so  sooner  or  later.  It  is  chiefly 
now  the  conviction  in  the  minds  of  legislatures 
that  a  large  number  of  the  intelligent  women  of 
their  communities  do  not  desire  to  exercise  the 
right  of  suffrage  which  keeps  the  bars  down. 
Doubtless  these  bodies  will  yield  one  after  another 
to  the  clamor  of  even  a  few,  and  the  experiment 
will  be  tried.  It  may  not  come  this  year  or  the 
next,  but  many  busy  people  are  so  certain  that  its 
coming  is  merely  a  question  of  time  that  they  do 
not  allow  themselves  to  be  drawn  into  the  fury  of 
the  fray.  When  it  comes,  however,  it  will  come 
as  a  universal  privilege,  and  not  with  a  social  or 
property  qualification.  I  mention  this  simply  for 

296 


The  Case  of  Woman 


the  enlightenment  of  those  amiable  members  of 
the  sex  to  be  enfranchised  who  go  about  sighing 
and  simpering  in  the  interest  of  drawing  the  line. 
That  question  was  settled  a  century  ago.  The 
action  taken  may  have  been  an  error  on  the  part 
of  those  who  framed  the  laws,  but  it  has  been  set 
tled  forever.  There  would  be  no  more  chance  of 
the  passage  by  the  legislature  of  one  of  the  United 
States  of  a  statute  giving  the  right  of  suffrage  to 
a  limited  class  of  women  than  there  would  be  of 
one  prescribing  that  only  the  good-looking  mem 
bers  of  that  sex  should  be  allowed  to  marry. 

Many  people,  who  believe  that  woman  should 
be  denied  no  privilege  enjoyed  by  man  which  she 
really  desires  to  exercise,  find  much  difficulty  in 
regarding  the  right  of  suffrage  as  the  vital  end 
which  it  assumes  in  the  minds  of  its  advocates. 
One  would  suppose,  by  the  clamor  on  the  subject, 
that  the  ballot  would  enable  her  to  change  her 
spots  in  a  twinkling,  and  to  become  an  absolutely 
different  creation.  Lively  imaginations  do  not 
hesitate  to  compare  the  proposed  act  of  emancipa 
tion  with  the  release  of  the  colored  race  from 
bondage.  We  are  appealed  to  by  glowing  rhet 
oric  which  celebrates  the  equity  of  the  case  and 
the  moral  significance  of  the  impending  victory. 
But  the  orators  and  triumphants  stop  short  at  the 
passage  of  the  law  and  fail  to  tell  us  what  is  to 
come  after.  We  are  assured,  indeed,  that  it  will 


The  Art  of  Living 


be  all  right,  and  that  woman's  course  after  the 
Rubicon  is  crossed  will  be  one  grand  march  of 
progress  to  the  music  of  the  spheres  ;  but,  barring 
a  paean  of  this  sort,  we  are  given  no  light  as  to 
what  she  intends  to  do  and  become.  She  has 
stretched  out  her  hand  for  the  rattle  and  is  de 
termined  to  have  it,  but  she  does  not  appear  to 
entertain  any  very  definite  ideas  as  to  what  she  is 
going  to  do  with  it  after  she  has  it. 

Unquestionably,  the  development  of  the  mod 
ern  woman  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  feat 
ures  of  civilization  to-day.  But  is  it  not  true  that 
the  cause  of  woman  is  one  concern,  and  the  ques 
tion  of  woman  suffrage  another  ?  And  are  they 
not  too  often  confounded,  even  deliberately  con 
founded,  by  those  who  are  willing  to  have  them 
appear  to  be  identical  ?  Supposing  that  to-morrow 
the  trumpet  should  sound  and  the  walls  of  Jericho 
fall,  and  every  woman  be  free  to  cast  her  individ 
ual  ballot  without  let  or  hindrance  from  one  con 
fine  of  the  civilized  world  to  another,  what  would 
it  amount  to  after  all  by  way  of  elucidating  the 
question  of  her  future  evolution?  For  it  must  be 
remembered  that,  apart  from  the  question  of  her 
development  in  general,  those  who  are  clamoring 
for  the  ballot  have  been  superbly  vague  so  far  as 
to  the  precise  part  which  the  gentle  sex  is  to  play 
in  the  political  arena  after  she  gets  her  rattle. 
They  put  their  sisters  off  with  the  general  asser- 


The  Case  of  Woman 


tion  that  things  in  the  world,  politically  speak 
ing,  will  be  better,  but  neither  their  sisters  nor 
their  brothers  are  able  to  get  a  distinct  notion  of 
the  platform  on  which  woman  means  to  stand 
after  she  becomes  a  voter.  Is  she  going  to  enter 
into  competition  with  men  for  the  prizes  and 
offices,  to  argue,  manipulate,  hustle,  and  do  gener 
ally  the  things  which  have  to  be  done  in  the  name 
of  political  zeal  and  activity  ?  Is  it  within  the 
vista  of  her 'ambition  to  become  a  member  of,  and 
seek  to  control,  legislative  bodies,  to  be  a  police 
commissioner  or  a  member  of  Congress?  Those 
in  the  van  decline  to  answer,  or  at  least  they  do 
not  answer.  It  may  be,  to  be  sure,  the  wisdom 
of  the  serpent  which  keeps  them  non-committal, 
for  they  stand,  as  it  were,  between  the  devil  and 
the  deep  sea  in  that,  though  they  and  their  sup 
porters  would  perhaps  like  to  declare  boldly  in 
favor  of  competition,  or  at  least  participation,  in 
the  duties  and  honors,  they  stand  in  wholesome 
awe  of  the  hoarse  murmur  from  the  ranks  of  their 
sisters,  "  We  don't  wish  to  be  like  men,  and  we 
have  no  intention  of  competing  with  them  on 
their  own  lines."  Accordingly,  the  leaders  seek 
refuge  in  the  safe  but  indefinite  assertion  that  of 
course  women  will  never  become  men,  but  they 
have  thus  far  neglected  to  tell  us  what  they  are 
to  become. 

It  really  seems  as  though  it  were  time  for  worn- 


The  Art  of  Living 


an,  in   general    congress   of   the    women's   clubs 
assembled,  to  make  a  reasonably  full  and   clear 

statement  of  her 
aims 
ples- 


and  princi- 
-  a  declara- 
tion  of  faith 
which  shall  give 
her  own  sex  and 
men  the  opportuni 
ty  to  know  precise 
ly  what  she  is  driv 
ing  at.  Her  prog 
ress  for  the  last  hun 
dred  years  has  been 
gratifying  to  the 
world,  with  the 
exception  of 
pig-headed 
*  "*  (,  >,  or  narrow- 
minded  men, 
^,X1U>  and  civiliza 
tion  has  been 
inestimably  benefit 
ed  by  the  broaden 
ing  of  her  intelli 
gence  and  her  interests.  But  she  has  now  reached 
a  point  where  there  is  a  parting  of  the  ways,  and 
the  world  would  very  much  like  to  know  which  she 
intends  to  take.  The  atmosphere  of  the  women's 

3oo 


Complete  and   ideal  marital   happiness. 


The  Case  of  Woman 


clubs  is  mysterious  but  unsuggestive,  and  conse 
quently  many  of  us  feel  inclined  to  murmur  with 
the  poet,  "  it  is  clever,  but  we  don't  know  what  it 
means."  Unrepressed  nervous  mental  activity  eas 
ily  becomes  social  affectation  or  tomfoolery,  in  the 
absence  of  a  controlling  aim  or  purpose.  To  ex 
haust  one's  vitality  in  papers  or  literary  teas,  mere 
ly  to  express  or  simulate  individual  culture  or  free 
dom,  may  not  land  one  in  an  insane  asylum,  but  it  is 
about  as  valuable  to  society,  as  an  educating  force, 
as  the  revolutions  of  the  handle  of  a  freezer,  when 
the  crank  is  off,  are  valuable  to  the  production  of 
ice-cream.  For  the  benefit  of  such  a  congress, 
if  haply  it  should  be  called  together  later,  it  will 
not  be  out  of  place  to  offer  a  few  suggestions  as 
to  her  future  evolution.  In  this  connection  it 
seems  to  me  imperative  to  go  back  to  the  original 
poetic  conception  of  woman  as  the  wife  and 
mother,  the  domestic  helpmate  and  loving,  self- 
abnegating  companion  of  man.  Unedifying  as  this 
formula  of  description  may  seem  to  the  active- 
minded  modern  woman,  it  is  obvious  that  under 
existing  physiological  conditions  she  must  remain 
the  wife  and  mother,  even  though  she  declines  to 
continue  domestic,  loving,  and  self -abnegating. 
And  side  by  side  with  physiological  conditions 
stands  the  intangible,  ineffable  force  of  sexual  love, 
the  poetic,  entrancing  ecstasy  which  no  scientist 
has  yet  been  able  to  reduce  to  a  myth  or  to  ex- 


The  Art  of  Living 


plode.  Schopenhauer,  to  be  sure,  would  have  us 
believe  that  it  is  merely  a  delusion  by  which  nat 
ure  seeks  to  reproduce  herself,  but  even  on  this 
material  basis  the  women's  clubs  find  themselves 
face  to  face  with  an  enemy  more  determined  than 
any  Amazon.  A  maid  deluded  becomes  the  sor 
riest  of  club  members. 

What  vision  of  life  is  nobler  and 
more  exquisite  than  that  of  complete 
and    ideal    marital    happiness?     To 
find  it  complete  and  ideal  the  mod 
ern  woman,  with  all  her  charms 
and  abilities  must  figure  in  it,  I 
grant ;  the  mere  do 
mestic    drudge ;    the 
tame,  amiable  house- 
cat  ;  the  doting  doll, 
are  no  longer  pleas 
ing  parties  of  the  sec 
ond  part.     To  admit 
so  much  as  this  may 
seem    to   offer   room 
for  the  argument  that 
the    modern   woman 

An  ever-watchful  guardian  angel  at  the  shoulder      Q{     a     hundred     years 

hence  will  make  her 

of  the  poet's  dream  of  to-day  appear  no  less 
pitiable ;  but  there  we  men  are  ready  to  take 
issue.  We  admit  our  past  tyranny,  we  cry  "  Pec- 

302 


The  Case  of  Woman 


cavi,"  yet  we  claim  at  the  same  time  that,  having 
taken  her  to  our  bosoms  as  our  veritable,  lov 
ing  companion  and  helpmate,  there  is  no  room 
left,  or  very  little  room  left,  for  more  progress 
in  that  particular  direction.  Her  next  steps,  if 
taken,  will  be  on  new  lines,  not  by  way  of  mak 
ing  herself  an  equal.  And  therefore  it  is  that 
we  suggest  the  vision  of  perfect  modern  marital 
happiness  as  the  leading  consideration  to  be  taken 
into  account  in  dealing  with  this  question.  Even 
in  the  past,  when  woman  was  made  a  drudge  and 
encouraged  to  remain  a  fool,  the  poetry  and  joy 
and  stimulus  of  life  for  her,  as  well  as  for  her  des 
pot  mate,  lay  in  the  mystery  of  love,  its  joys  and 
responsibilities.  Even  then,  if  her  life  were  robbed 
of  the  opportunity  to  love  and  be  loved,  its  savor 
was  gone,  however  free  she  might  be  from  mas 
culine  tyranny  and  coercion.  Similarly,  after 
making  due  allowance  for  the  hyperbole  as  to 
the  influence  which  woman  has  on  man  when  he 
has  made  up  his  mind  to  act  to  the  contrary, 
there  is  no  power  which  works  for  righteous 
ness  upon  him  comparable  to  the  influence  of 
woman.  There  is  always  the  possibility  that  the 
woman  a  man  loves  may  not  be  consciously  work 
ing  for  righteousness,  but  the  fact  that  he  believes 
so  is  the  essential  truth,  even  though  he  be  the 
victim  of  self-delusion.  This  element  of  the  case 
is  pertinent  to  the  question  whether  woman  would 


The  Art  of  Living 


really  try  to  reform  the  world,  if  she  had  the 
chance,  rather  than  to  this  particular  consider 
ation.  The  point  of  the  argument  is  that  the  de 
pendence  of  each  sex  on  the  other,  and  the  loving 

sympathy  between 
them,  which  is  born 
of  dissimilarity,  is 
the  salt  of  human 
life.  The  eternal 
feminine  is  what  we 
prize  in  woman,  and 
wherever  she  de 
flects  from  this  there 
does  her  power  wane 
and  her  usefulness 
become  impaired. 
And  conversely,  the  more  and 
the  higher  she  advances  along 
the  lines  of  her  own  nature,  the 
better  for  the  world.  Nor  does 
the  claim  that  she  has  been 
hampered  hitherto,  and  consequently  been  unable 
to  show  what  her  attributes  really  are,  seem  rele 
vant  ;  for  it  is  only  when  she  develops  in  direc 
tions  which  threaten  to  clash  with  the  eternal 
feminine  that  she  encounters  opposition  or  serious 
criticism.  And  here  even  the  excitability  and  un 
reasonableness  of  such  men  as  our  friend  Julius 
Caesar  find  a  certain  justification.  Their  fumes 

304 


Teacher. 


The  Case  of  Woman 


and  fury,  however  unintelligent,  proceed  from  an 
instinctive  repugnance  to  the  departure  or  devi 
ation  from  nature  which  they  find,  or  fear  to  find, 
in  the  modern  woman.  Once  let  them  realize 
that  there  was  no  danger  of  anything  of  the  kind, 
and  they  would  become  gentle  as  doves,  if  not  all 
smiles  and  approval. 

There  is  no  more  beautiful  and  refining  influ 
ence  in  the  world  than  that  of  an  attractive  and 
noble  woman. 
Unselfishness, 
tenderness,  as 
piring  senti 
ment,  long-suf 
fering  devotion, 
grace,  tact,  and 
quickly  divining 
intelligence  are 
her  preroga 
tives,  and  she 
stands  an  ever- 
watchful  guar 
dian  angel  at  the 
shoulder  of  man. 
The  leading  po 
etic  and  elevating  associations  of  life  are  linked 
with  her  name.  The  lover's  passion,  the  hus 
band's  worship,  the  son's  reverential  affection  are 
inspired  by  her.  The  strong  man  stays  his  hand 


Nurse. 


The  Art  of  Living 


and  sides  with  mercy  or  honor  when  his  mother 
speaks  within  him.  In  homelier  language,  she  is 
the  keeper  of  the  hearth  and  home,  the 
protector  and  trainer  of  her  children, 
the  adviser,  consoler,  and  companion  of 
her  husband,  father,  son,  brother,  or 
other  masculine  associates. 

Now,  the  modern  woman,  up  to  this 
point,  has  been  disposed,  on  the 
whole,  to  regard  this  as  the  part 
which  she  is  to  play  in  the 
drama  of  life.     At  least  she 


The  Case  of  Woman 


has  not  materially  deviated  from  it.  Her  prog 
ress  has  been  simply  in  the  way  of  enabling  her 
to  play  that  part  more  intelligently  and  wor. 
thily,  and  not  toward  usurpation,  excepting  that 
she  claims  the  right  to  earn  her  daily  bread. 
Higher  education  in  its  various 
branches  has  been  the  most  sig 
nal  fruit  of  her  struggle  for  en 
lightenment  and  lib 
erty,  and  this  is  cer 
tainly  in  entire  keep 
ing  with  the  eternal 
feminine,  and  to-day 
seems  indispensable 
to  her  suitable 
development. 
By  means  of  ed 
ucation  similar 
to  that  lavished 
upon  man  she 
has  been  ena 
bled,  it  is  true, 
to  obtain  em 
ployment  of  va 
rious  kinds  hitherto  withheld  from  her,  but  the 
positions  of  professor,  teacher,  nurse,  artist,  and 
clerk,  are  amplifications  of  her  natural  aptitudes 
rather  than  encroachments.  She  has,  however, 
finally  reached  the  stage  where  she  will  soon  have 


Clerk. 


307 


The  Art  of  Living 


to  decide  whether  the  hearth  and  the  home  or 
down-town  is  to  be  the  principal  theatre  of  her 
activity  and  influence.  Is  she  or  is  she  not  to 
participate  with  man  in  the  tangible,  obvious 
management  of  the  affairs  of  the  world  ? 


II 

THE  mystic  oracles  of  the  women's  clubs  do  not 
give  a  straightforward  answer  to  this  question. 
Yet  there  are  mutterings,  mouthings,  and  signs 
from  them  which  tend  to  arouse  masculine  sus 
picions.  To  use  a  colloquialism,  woman  fancies 
herself  very  much  at  present,  and  she  spends  con 
siderable  time  in  studying  the  set  of  her  mind  in 
the  looking-glass.  And  her  serenity  is  justified. 
In  spite  of  ridicule,  baiting,  and  delay  for  several 
generations,  she  has  demonstrated  her  ability  and 
fitness  to  do  a  number  of  things  which  we  had 
adjudged  her  incapable  of  doing.  She  can  almost 
take  care  of  herself  in  the  street  after  dark.  She 
has  become  a  most  valuable  member  of  commit 
tees  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  poor,  the 
sick,  and  the  insane.  She  has  become  the  presi 
dent  and  professors  of  colleges  founded  in  her  be 
half.  The  noble  and  numerous  army  of  teachers, 
typewriters,  salesladies,  nurses,  and  women  doc 
tors  (including  Christian  Scientists),  stands  as 

308 


The  Case  of  Woman 


ample  proof  of  her  intention  and  capacity  to 
strike  out  for  herself.  No  wonder,  perhaps,  that 
she  is  a  little  delirious  and  mounted  in  the  head, 
and  that  she  is  tempted  to  exclaim,  "  Go  to,  I  will 
do  more  than  this.  Why  should  I  not  practise 
law,  and  sell  stocks,  wheat,  corn,  and  exchange, 
control  the  money  markets  of  the  world,  admin 
ister  trusts,  manage  corporations,  sit  in  Congress, 
and  be  President  of  the  United  States  ?  " 

The  only  things  now  done  by  man  which  the 
modern  woman  has  not  yet  begun  to  cast  sheep's 
eyes  at  are  labor  requiring  much  physical  strength 
and  endurance,  and  military  service.  She  is  pre 
pared  to  admit  that  she  can  never  expect  to  be  so 
muscular  and  powerful  in  body  as  man.  But  this 
has  become  rather  a  solace  than  a  source  of  per 
plexity  to  her.  Indeed,  the  women's  clubs  are 
beginning  to  whisper  under  their  breath,  "  Man  is 
fitted  to  build  and  hew  and  cut  and  lift,  and  to 
do  everything  which  demands  brute  force.  We 
are  not.  We  should  like  to  think,  plan,  and  exe 
cute.  Let  him  do  the  heavy  work.  If  he  wishes 
to  fight  he  may.  Wars  are  wicked,  and  we  shall 
vote  against  them  and  refuse  to  take  part  in 
them." 

If  woman  is  going  in  for  this  sort  of  thing,  of 
course  she  needs  the  ballot.  If  she  intends  to 
manage  corporations  and  do  business  generally, 
she  ought  to  have  a  voice  in  the  framing  of  the 


The  Art  of  Living 


laws  which  manifest  the  policy  of  the  state.  But 
to  earn  one's  living  as  a  college  professor,  nurse, 
typewriter,  saleslady,  or  clerk,  or  to  sit  on 
boards  of  charity,  education,  or  hygiene,  is  a  far 
remove  from  becoming  bank  presidents,  mer 
chants,  judges,  bankers,  or  members  of  Con 
gress.  The  one  affords  the  means  by  which 
single  women  can  earn  a  decent  and  independ 
ent  livelihood,  or  devote  their  energies  to  work 
useful  to  society ;  the  other  would  necessitate 
an  absolute  revolution  in  the  habits,  tastes,  in 
terests,  proclivities,  and  nature 
of  woman.  The  noble  army  of 
teachers,  typewriters,  nurses,  and 
salesladies  are  in  the  heels  of 
their  boots  hoping  to  be  mar 
ried  some  day  or  other.  They 
have  merely  thrown  an  anchor 
to  windward  and  taken  up  a  call 
ing  which  will  enable  them  to 
live  reasonably  happy  if  the  right 
man  does  not  appear,  or  passes 
by  on  the  other  side.  Those  who 
sit  on  boards,  and  who  are  more 
apt  to  be  middle-aged,  are  but 
interpreting  and  fulfilling  the 
true  mission  of  the  modern  woman,  which  is  to 
supplement  and  modify  the  point  of  view  of  man, 
and  to  extend  the  kind  of  influence  which  she  ex- 


310 


The  Case  of  Woman 


ercises  at  home  to  the  conduct  of  public  interests 
of  a  certain  class. 

Now,  some  one  must  keep  house.  Some  one 
must  cook,  wash,  dust,  sweep,  darn,  look  after  the 
children,  and  in  general 
grease  the  wheels  of  do 
mestic  activity.  If  wom 
en  are  to  become  mer 
chants,  and  manage  cor 
porations,  who  will 
bring  up  our  families 
and  manage  the  home  ? 
The  majority  of  the  noble  army 
referred  to  are  not  able  to  escape 
from  making  their  own  beds  and 
cooking  their  own  breakfasts.  If 
they  occupied  other  than  com 
paratively  subordinate  positions 
they  would  have  to  call  China 
town  to  the  rescue  ;  for  the  men 
would  decline  with  thanks,  relying  on  their  brute 
force  to  protect  them,  and  the  other  women 
would  toss  their  heads  and  say  "  Make  your  own 
beds,  you  nasty  things.  We  prefer  to  go  to  town 
too."  In  fact  the  emancipation  of  women,  so  far 
as  it  relates  to  usurpation  of  the  work  of  man, 
does  not  mean  much  in  actual  practice  yet,  in 
spite  of  the  brave  show  and  bustle  of  the  noble 
army.  The  salesladies  get  their  meals  somehow, 


In  the  heels  of  their 
boots  hoping  to  be 
married  some  day  or 
other. 


The  Art  of  Living 


Those  who  sit  on  boards  are  more  apt  to  be   middle-aged. 

and  the  domestic  hearth  is  still  presided  over  by 
the  mistress  of  the  house  and  her  daughters.  But 
this  cannot  continue  to  be  the  case  if  women  are 
going  to  do  everything  which  men  do  except  lift 
weights  and  fight.  For  we  all  know  that  our 
mothers,  wives,  and  sisters,  according  to  their  own 
affidavits,  have  all  they  can  do  already  to  fulfil 
the  requirements  of  modern  life  as  mothers,  wives, 
and  sisters  in  the  conventional  yet  modern  sense. 
Many  of  them  tell  us  that  they  would  not  have 
time  to  vote,  to  say  nothing  of  qualifying  them 
selves  to  vote.  Indisputably  they  cannot  become 
men  and  yet  remain  women  in  the  matter  of  their 
daily  occupations,  unless  they  discover  some  new 
panacea  against  nervous  prostration.  The  pro 
fessions  are  open  ;  the  laws  will  allow  them  to 
establish  banks  and  control  corporate  interests ; 
but  what  is  to  become  of  the  eternal  feminine  in 
the  pow-wow,  bustle,  and  materializing  rush  and 
competition  of  active  business  life?  Whatever  a 

3" 


The  Case  of  Woman 


few  individuals  may  do,  there  seems  to  be  no  im 
mediate  or  probably  eventual  prospect  of  a  throw 
ing  off  by  woman  of  domestic  ties  and  duties. 
Her  physical  and  moral  nature  alike  are  formi 
dable  barriers  in  the  way. 

Why,  then,  if  women  are  not  going  to  usurp  or 
share  to  any  great  extent  the  occupations  of  men, 
and  become  familiar  with  the  practical  workings  of 
professional,  business,  and  public  affairs,  are  they 
ever  likely  to  be  able  to  judge  so  intelligently  as 
men  as  to  the  needs  of  the  state  ?  To  hear  many 
people  discuss  the  subject,  one  would  suppose 
that  all  the  laws  passed  by  legislative  bodies  were 
limited  to  questions  of  ethics  and  morality.  If  all 
political  action  were  reduced  to  debates  and  bal 
lots  on  the  use  of  liquor,  the  social  evil,  and  other 
moral  or  humanitarian  topics,  the  claim  that 
women  ought  to  be  allowed  and  encouraged  to 
vote  would  be  much  stronger — that  is,  assuming 
that  she  herself  preferred  to  use  her  influence  di 
rectly  instead  of  indirectly.  But  the  advocates  of 
female  suffrage  seem  to  forget  that  three-fifths  of 
the  laws  passed  relate  to  matters  remotely  if  at 
all  bearing  upon  ethics,  and  involve  considera 
tions  of  public  policy  from  the  point  of  view  of 
what  is  best  for  the  interests  of  the  state  and  the 
various  classes  of  individuals  which  compose  it. 
We  do  not  always  remember  in  this  age  of  after 
noon  teas  and  literary  papers  that  the  state  is 


The  Art  of  Living 


after  all  an  artificial  body,  a  form  of  compact  un 
der  which  human  beings  agree  to  live  together 
for  mutual  benefit  and  protection.  Before  culture, 
asstheticism,  or  even  ethics  can  be  maintained 
there  must  be  a  readiness  and  ability  to  fight,  if 
the  necessity  arises,  and  a  capacity  to  do  heavy 
work.  Moreover,  there  must  be  ploughed  fields 
and  ship-yards  and  grain  elevators  and  engines 
and  manufactories,  and  all  the  diverse  forms  and 
phases  of  industrial  and  commercial  endeavor  and 
enterprise  by  which  men  earn  their  daily  bread. 
If  woman  is  going  to  participate  in  the  material 
activities  of  the  community  she  will  be  fit  to  deal 
with  the  questions  which  relate  thereto,  but  other 
wise  she  must  necessarily  remain  unable  to  form 
a  satisfactory  judgment  as  to  the  merits  of  more 
than  one-half  the  measures  upon  which  she  would 
be  obliged  to  vote.  Nor  is  it  an  argument  in 
point  that  a  large  body  of  men  is  in  the  same  pre 
dicament.  Two  evils  do  not  make  a  benefit. 
There  is  a  sufficient  number  of  men  conversant 
with  every  separate  practical  question  which  arises 
to  insure  an  intelligent  examination  of  it.  The 
essential  consideration  is,  what  would  the  state 
gain,  if  woman  suffrage  were  adopted,  except  an 
enlarged  constituency  of  voters?  What  would 
woman,  by  means  of  the  ballot,  add  to  the  better 
or  smoother  development  of  the  social  system 
under  which  we  live? 


The  Case  of  Woman 


Unless  the  eternal  feminine  is  to  be  sacrificed 
or  to  suffer,  it  seems  to  me  that  her  sole  influence 
would  be  an  ethical  or  moral  one.  There  are 
certainly  strong  grounds  for  the  assumption  that 
she  would  point  the  way  to,  or  at  least  champion, 
the  cause  of  reforms  which  man  has  perpetually 
dilly-dallied  with  and  failed  to  do  battle  for.  To 
be  sure,  many  of  her  most  virtuous  endeavors 
would  be  likely  to  be  focussed  on  matters  where 
indulgences  and  weaknesses  chiefly  masculine 
were  concerned — such  as  the  liquor  problem  ;  but 
an  alliance  between  her  vote  and  that  of  the  mi 
nority  of  men  would  probably  be  a  blessing  to  the 
world,  even  though  she  showed  herself  somewhat 
a  tyrant  or  a  fanatic.  Her  advocacy  of  measures 
calculated  to  relieve  society  of  abuses  and  curses, 
which  have  continued  to  afflict  it  because  men 
have  been  only  moderately  in  earnest  for  a 
change,  could  scarcely  fail  to  produce  valuable 
results.  Perhaps  this  is  enough  in  itself  to  out 
weigh  the  ignorance  which  she  would  bring  to 
bear  on  matters  which  did  not  involve  ethical  or 
humanitarian  principles ;  and  it  is  indisputably 
the  most  legitimate  argument  in  favor  of  woman 
suffrage.  The  notion  that  women  ought  to  vote 
simply  because  men  do  is  childish  and  torn  of 
vanity.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  state  is  to  be  a 
gainer  by  her  participation  in  the  perplexities  of 
voting,  the  case  takes  on  a  very  different  aspect. 


The  Art  of  Living 

I  have  been  assuming  that  the  influence  of 
woman  would  be  in  behalf  of  ethics,  but  my  wife 
Barbara  assures  me  that  I  am  thereby  begging 
the  question.  She  informs  me  that  I  have  too  ex 
alted  an  idea  of  woman  and  her  aims.  She  has 
confided  to  me  that,  though  there  is  a  number  of 
noble  and  forceful  women  in  every  community, 
the  general  average,  though  prolific  of  moral  and 
religious  advice  to  men  by  way  of  fulfilling  a  sort 
of  traditional  feminine  duty,  is  at  heart  rather 
flighty  and  less  deeply  interested  in  social  prog 
ress  than  my  sex.  This  testimony,  taken  in  con 
nection  with  the  reference  of  Julius  Cassar  to  the 
disillusioning  effect  of  a  crowd  of  women  in  a 
drygoods  store,  introduces  a  new  element  into 
the  discussion.  Frankly,  my  estimate  of  women 
has  always  been  high,  and  possibly  unduly  ex 
alted.  It  may  be  I  have  been  deceived  by  the 
moral  and  religious  advice  offered  into  believing 
that  women  are  more  serious  than  they  really 
are. ,  Reflection  certainly  does  cause  one  to  rec 
ollect  that  comparatively  few  women  like  to 
dwell  on  or  to  discuss  for  more  than  a  few  min 
utes  any  serious  subject  which  requires  earnest 
thought.  They  prefer  to  skim  from  one  thing  to 
another  like  swallows  and  to  avoid  dry  depths. 
Those  in  the  van  will  doubtless  answer  that  this 
is  due  to  the  unfortunate  training  which  woman 
has  been  subjected  to  for  so  many  generations. 


The  Case  of  Woman 


True,  in  a  measure;  but  ought  she  not,  before  she 
is  allowed  to  vote,  on  the  plea  of  bringing  benefit 
to  the  state  as  an  ethical  adviser,  to  demonstrate 
by  more  than  words  her  ethical  superiority  ? 


The  ball-room. 


We  all  know  that  women  drink  less  intoxicating 
liquor  than  men,  and  are  less  addicted  to  fleshly 
excesses.  Yet  the  whole  mental  temper  and  make 
up  of  each  sex  ought  to  be  taken  into  account  in 
comparing  them  together ;  and  with  all  the  pre 
disposition  of  a  gallant  and  susceptible  man  to 


317 


The  Art  of  Living 


say  the  complimentary  thing,  I  find  myself  asking 
the  question  whether  the  average  woman  does  not 
prefer  to  jog  along  on  a  worsted-work-domestic- 
trusting-religious-advice-giving  basis,  rather  than 

to  grapple  in  a  seri 
ous  way  with  the  for 
midable  problems  of 


The  fancy-work  pattern. 

living.  At  any  rate  I,  for  one,  before  the  right 
of  suffrage  is  bestowed  upon  her,  would  like  to 
be  convinced  that  she  as  a  sex  is  really  earnest- 
minded.  If  one  stops  to  think,  it  is  not  easy  to 
show  that,  excepting  where  liquor,  other  women, 
and  rigid  attendance  at  church  are  concerned,  she 
has  been  wont  to  show  any  very  decided  bent  for, 
or  interest  in,  the  great  reforms  of  civilization — 


The  Case  of  Woman 


that  is,  nothing  to  distinguish  her  from  a  well- 
equipped  and  thoughtful  man.  It  is  significant, 
too,  that  where  women  in  this  country  have  been 
given  the  power  to  vote  in  local  affairs,  they  have 
in  several  instances  shown  themselves  to  be  more 
solicitous  for  the  triumph 
of  a  religious  creed  or  fac 
tion  than  to  promote  the 
public  welfare. 

It  is  extremely  probable, 
if  not  certain,  that  the  laws 
of  all  civilized  states  will 
eventually  be  amended  so  as 
to  give  women  the  same  voice 
in  the  affairs  of  government 
as  men.  But  taking  all  the 
factors  of  the  case  into  con 
sideration,  there  seems  to  be 
no  pressing  haste  for  action. 
Even  admitting  for  the  sake 
of  argument  that  woman's  ap 
parent  lack  of  seriousness  is  due  to  her  past  train 
ing,  and  that  she  is  really  the  admirably  earnest 
spirit  which  one  is  lured  into  believing  her  until 
he  reflects,  there  can  assuredly  be  no  question  that 
the  temper  and  proclivities  of  the  very  large  mass 
of  women  are  not  calculated  at  present  to  convict 
man  of  a  lack  of  purpose  by  virtue  of  shining  su 
periority  in  persevering  mental  and  moral  aggres- 

319 


The  sensational  novel. 


The  Art  of  Living 


siveness.  Not  merely  the  drygoods  counter  and 
the  milliner's  store  with  their  engaging  seductions, 
but  the  ball-room,  the  fancy-work  pattern,  the  sen 
sational  novel,  nervous  prostration,  the  school 
girl's  giggle,  the  teapot  without  food,  and  a  host  of 
other  tell-tale  symptoms,  suggest  that  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  the  old  Eve  left  in  the  woman  of  to 
day.  And  bless  her  sweet  heart,  Adam  is  in  no 
haste  to  have  it  otherwise.  Indeed,  the  eternal 
feminine  seems  to  have  staying  qualities  which  bid 
fair  to  outlast  the  ages. 


320 


THE   CONDUCT   OF   LIFE 


Now  that  more  than  a  century  has  elapsed 
since  our  independence  as  a  nation  was  ac 
complished,  and  we  are  sixty  million  strong,  what 
do  we  stand  for  in  the  world  ?  What  is  meant 
by  the  word  American,  and  what  are  our  salient 
qualities  as  a  people  ?  What  is  the  contribution 
which  we  have  made  or  are  making  to  the  prog 
ress  of  society  and  the  advancement  of  civiliza 
tion  ? 

There  certainly  used  to  be,  and  probably  there 
is,  no  such  egregiously  patriotic  individual  in  the 
world  as  an  indiscriminately  patriotic  American, 
and  there  is  no  more  familiar  bit  of  rhetoric  ex 
tant  than  that  this  is  the  greatest  nation  on  earth. 
The  type  of  citizen  who  gave  obtrusive  vent  to 
this  sentiment,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  is  less 
common  than  formerly ;  nevertheless  his  clarion 
tones  are  still  invariably  to  be  heard  in  legislative 
assemblies  when  any  opportunity  is  afforded  to 
draw  a  comparison  between  ourselves  and  other 
nations.  His  extravagant  and  highfalutin  boast 
ings  have  undoubtedly  been  the  occasion  of  a 


The  Art  of  Living 


certain  amount  of  seemingly  lukewarm  patriotism 
on  the  part  of  the  educated  and  more  intelligent 
portion  of  the  American  public,  an  attitude  which 


This  is  the  greatest  nation  on  earth. 

has  given  foreigners  the  opportunity  to  declare 
that  the  best  Americans  are  ashamed  of  their  own 
institutions.  But  that  apparent  disposition  to 
apologize  already  belongs  to  a  past  time.  No 
American,  unless  a  fool,  denies  to-day  the  force 
of  the  national  character,  whatever  he  or  she  may 
think  of  the  behavior  of  individuals  ;  and  on  the 
other  hand,  is  it  not  true  that  every  State  in  the 
Union  has  a  rising  population  of  young  and  mid 
dle-aged  people  who  have  discovered,  Congress 
and  the  public  schools  to  the  contrary  notwith- 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


standing,  that  we  do  not  know  everything,  and 
that  the  pathway  of  national  progress  is  more  full 
of  perplexities  than  our  forests  were  of  trees  when 
Daniel  Boone  built  his  log  cabin  in  the  wilds  of 
Kentucky  ?  In  short,  the  period  of  unintelligent 
jubilation  on  one  side,  and  carping  cynicism  on 
the  other,  have  given  place  to  a  soberer  self-satis 
faction.  We  cannot — why  should  we?  —  forget 
that  our  territory  is  enormous,  and  that  we  soon 
shall  be,  if  we  are  not  already,  the  richest  nation 
on  earth  ;  that  the  United  States  is  the  professed 
asylum  and  Mecca  of  hope  for  the  despondent 
and  oppressed  of  other  countries  ;  and  that  we 


The  despondent  and  oppressed  of  other  countries. 

are  the  cynosure  of  the  universe,  as  being  the 
most  important  exemplification  of  popular  gov 
ernment  which  the  world  has  ever  seen.  At 


The  Art  of  Living 


the  same  time,  the  claims  put  forth  by  our 
progenitors,  that  American  society  is  vastly  su 
perior  to  any  other,  and  that  the  effete  world  of 
Europe  is  put  to  the  blush  by  the  civic  virtues  of 
the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave, 
are  no  longer  urged  except  for  the  purposes  of 
rodomontade.  The  average  American  of  fifty 
years  ago — especially  the  frontiersman  and  pio 
neer,  who  swung  his  axe  to  clear  a  homestead,  and 
squirted  tobacco-juice  while  he  tilled  the  prairie 
—really  believed  that  our  customs,  opinions,  and 
manner  of  living,  whether  viewed  from  the  moral, 
artistic,  or  intellectual  standpoint,  were  a  vast  im 
provement  on  those  of  any  other  nation. 

But  though  most  of  us  to-day  recognize  the  ab 
surdity  of  such  a  view,  we  are  most  of  us  at  the 
same  time  conscious  of  the  belief  that  there  is  a 
difference  between  us  and  the  European  which  is 
not  imaginary,  and  which  is  the  secret  of  our  na 
tional  force  and  originality.  International  inter 
course  has  served  to  open  our  eyes  until  they 
have  become  as  wide  as  saucers,  with  the  conse 
quence  that,  in  hundreds  of  branches  of  industry 
and  art,  we  are  studying  Old  World  methods ; 
moreover,  the  pioneer  strain  of  blood  has  been 
diluted  by  hordes  of  immigrants  of  the  scum  of 
the  earth.  In  spite  of  both  these  circumstances, 
our  faith  in  our  originality  and  in  the  value  of  it 
remains  unshaken,  and  we  are  no  less  sure  at 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


heart  that  our  salient  traits  are  noble  ones,  than 
the  American  of  fifty  years  ago  was  sure  that  we 
had  the  monopoly  of  all  the  virtues  and  all  the 
arts.  He  really  meant  only  what  we  mean,  but 
he  had  an  unfortunate  way  of  expressing  himself. 
We  have  learned  better  taste,  and  we  do  not  hes 
itate  nowadays  to  devote  our  native  humor  to 
hitting  hard  the  head  of  bunkum,  which  used  to 
be  as  sacred  as  a  Hindoo  god,  and  as  rife  as  ap- 
jle-blossoms  in  this  our  beloved  country. 

What  is  the  recipe  for  Americanism — that  con 
dition  of  the  system  and  blood,  as  it  were,  which 
even  the  immigrant  without  an  ideal  to  his  own 
soul,  seems  often  to  acquire  to  some  extent  as 
soon  as  he  breathes  the  air  of  Castle  Garden  ?  It 
is  difficult  to  define  it  in  set  speech,  for  it  seems 
almost  an  illusive  and  intangible  quality  of  being 
when  fingered  and  held  up  to  the  light.  It  seems 
to  me  to  be,  first  of  all,  a  consciousness  of  unfet 
tered  individuality  coupled  with  a  determination 
to  make  the  most  of  self.  One  great  force  of  the 
American  character  is  its  naturalness,  which  pro 
ceeds  from  a  total  lack  of  traditional  or  inherited 
disposition  to  crook  the  knee  to  anyone.  It  never 
occurs  to  a  good  American  to  be  obsequious.  In 
vulgar  or  ignorant  personalities  this  point  of  view 
has  sometimes  manifested  itself,  and  continues  to 
manifest  itself,  in  swagger  or  insolence,  but  in  the 
finer  form  of  nature  appears  as  simplicity  of  an 


The  Art  of  Living 


unassertive  yet  dignified  type.  Gracious  polite 
ness,  without  condescension  on  the  one  hand,  or 
fawning  on  the  other,  is  noticeably  a  trait  of  the 
best  element  of  American  society,  both  among 
men  and  women.  Indeed,  so  valuable  to  charac 
ter  and  ennobling  is  this  native  freedom  from  ser 
vility,  that  it  has  in  many  cases  in  the  past  made 
odd  and  unconventional  manner  and  behavior 
seem  attractive  rather  than  a  blemish.  Uncon- 
ventionality  is  getting  to  be  a  thing  of  the  past  in 
this  country,  and  the  representative  American  is 
at  a  disadvantage  now,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
if  he  lacks  the  ways  of  the  best  social  word ;  he 
can  no  longer  afford  to  ignore  cosmopolitan  us 
ages,  and  to  rely  solely  on  a  forceful  or  impos 
ing  personality  ;  the  world  of  London  and  Paris, 
of  New  York  and  Washington  and  Chicago,  has 
ceased  to  thrill,  and  is  scarcely  amused,  if  he 
shows  himself  merely  in  the  guise  of  a  splendid 
intellectual  buffalo.  But  the  best  Americanism 
of  to-day  reveals  itself  no  less  distinctly  and  un 
equivocally  in  simplicity  bred  of  a  lack  of  self- 
consciousness  and  a  lack  of  servility  of  mind.  It 
seems  to  carry  with  it  a  birthright  of  self-respect, 
which,  if  fitly  worn,  ennobles  the  humblest  cit 
izen. 

This  national  quality  of  self-respect  is  apt  to  be 
associated  with  the  desire  for  self-improvement 
or  success.  Indeed,  it  must  engender  it,  for  it 

326 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


provides  hope,  and  hope  is  the  touchstone  of  en 
ergy.  The  great  energy  of  Americans  is  ascribed 
by  some  to  the  climate,  and  it  is  probably  true 
that  the  nervous  temperaments  of  our  people  are 
stimulated  by  the  atmospheric  conditions  which 
surround  us ;  but  is  it  not  much  more  true  that, 
just  as  it  never  occurs  to  the  good  American  to 
be  servile,  so  he  feels  that  his  outlook  upon  the 
possibilities  of  life  is  not  limited  or  qualified,  and 
that  the  world  is  really  his  oyster  ?  To  be  sure, 
this  faith  has  been  fostered  by  the  almost  Aladdin- 
like  opportunities  which  this  great  and  rich  new 
country  of  ours  has  afforded.  But  whatever  the 
reason  for  our  native  energy 
and  self-reliance,  it  indisput 
ably  exists,  and  is  signally 
typical  of  the  American  char 
acter.  We  are  distinctly  an 
ambitious,  earnest  people, 
eager  to  make  the  most  of 
ourselves  individually,  and 
we  have  attracted  the  atten 
tion  of  the  world  by  force  of 
our  independent  activity  of 
thought  and  action.  The 

extraordinary  personality  of  Abraham  Lincoln  is 
undoubtedly  the  best  apotheosis  yet  presented  of 
unadulterated  Americanism.  In  him  the  native 
stock  was  free  from  the  foreign  influences  and 


The  best  apotheosis  yet  present 
ed  of  unadulterated  American- 


The  Art  of  Living 


suggestions  which  affected,  more  or  less,  the  peo 
ple  of  the  East.  His  origin  was  of  the  humblest 
sort,  and  yet  he  presented  most  saliently  in  his 
character  the  naturalness,  nobility,  and  aspiring 
energy  of  the  nation.  He  made  the  most  of  him 
self  by  virtue  of  unusual  abilities,  yet 
the  key-note  of  their  influence  and 
force  was  a  noble 
simplicity  and  far- 
sighted  indepen 
dence.  In  him  the 
quintessence  of  the 
Americanism  of 
thirty  years  ago 


Our    restaurants. 

was  summed  up  and  expressed.  In  many  ways 
he  was  a  riddle  at  first  to  the  people  of  the 
cities  of  the  East  in  that,  though  their  soul  was 
his  soul,  his  ways  had  almost  ceased  to  be  their 
ways;  but  he  stands  before  the  world  to-day  as 
the  foremost  interpreter  of  American  ideas  and 
American  temper  of  thought  as  they  then  existed. 
In  the  thirty  years  since  the  death  of  Abraham 

3*8 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


Lincoln  the  country  has  been  inundated  with  for 
eign  blood.  Irish,  Germans,  English,  Poles,  and 
Scandinavians,  mainly  of  the  pauper  or  peasant 
class,  have  landed 
in  large  numbers, 
settled  in  one  State 
or  another,  and  be 
come  a  part  of  the 
population.  The 
West,  at  the  time 
of  the  Civil  War, 
was  chiefly  occu 
pied  by  settlers  of 
New  England  or 
Eastern  stock — pi 
oneers  from  the  old 
er  cities  and  towns 
who  had  sought 
fortune  and  a  freer 
life  in  the  new  ter 
ritory  of  prairies 
and  unappropriat 
ed  domain.  The 
population  of  the 

whole  country  to-day  bears  many  different  strains 
of  blood  in  its  veins.  The  original  settlers  have 
chiefly  prospered.  The  sons  of  those  who  split 
rails  or  followed  kindred  occupations  in  the 
fifties,  and  listened  to  the  debates  between  Lin- 


Our  cigar  stores. 


329 


The  Art  of  Living 


coin  and  Douglas,  are  the  proprietors  of  Chicago, 
Denver,  Cincinnati,  Minneapolis,  and  Topeka.  Jo- 
hann  Heintz  now  follows  the  plough  and  in  turn 
squirts  tobacco-juice  while  he  tills  the  prairie  ; 
and  Louis  Levinsky,  Paul  Petrinoff,  and  Michael 
O'Neil  forge  the  plough-shares,  dig  in  the  mine, 
or  work  in  the  factory  side  by  side  with  John 
Smith  and  any  descendant  of  Paul  Revere  who 
has  failed  to  prosper  in  life's  battle.  But  this  is 
not  all.  Not  merely  are  the  plain  people  in  the 
dilemma  of  being  unable  to  pronounce  the  names 
of  their  neighbors,  but  the  same  is  getting  to  be 
true  of  the  well-to-do  merchants  and  tradespeople 
of  many  of  our  cities.  The  argus-eyed  commer 
cial  foreigner  has  marked  us  for  his  own,  and  his 
kith  and  kin  are  to-day  coming  into  possession  of 
our  drygoods  establishments,  our  restaurants,  our 
cigar  stores,  our  hotels,  our  old  furniture  haunts, 
our  theatres,  our  jewelry  shops,  and  what  not. 
One  has  merely  to  open  a  directory  in  order  to 
find  the  names  in  any  leading  branch  of  trade 
plentifully  larded  with  Adolph  Stein,  Simon  Levi, 
Gustave  Cohen,  or  something  ending  in  berger. 
They  sell  our  wool ;  they  float  our  loans  ;  they 
manufacture  our  sugar,  our  whiskey,  and  our 
beer  ;  they  influence  Congress.  They  are  here  for 
what  they  can  make,  and  they  do  not  waste  their 
time  in  sentiment.  They  did  not  come  in  time  to 
reap  the  original  harvest,  but  they  have  blown 

33° 


Our  old  furniture  haunts. 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


across  the  ocean  to  help  the  free-born  American 
spend  his  money  in  the  process  of  trying  to  out- 
civilize  Paris  and    London.     As  a   consequence, 
the  leading  wholesale  and  re 
tail    ornamental    industries    of 
New  York  and  of  some  of  our 
Western  cities  are  in  the  grip 
of  individuals  whose  surnames 
have    a    foreign    twang.     Of 
course,  they  have  a  right  to  be 
here  ;    it  is  a  free  coun 
try,  and  no  one  can  say 
them  nay.     But  we  must 
take    them    and    their 
wives   and    daughters, 
their  customs  and  their 
opinions,    into    consider 
ation  in  making  an  esti 
mate    of    who    are    the 
Americans   of   the   pres 
ent.    They  have  not  come 
here  for  their  health,  as 
the   phrase   is,  but  they 
have  come  to  stay.     We 

at  present,  in  our  social  hunger  and  thirst,  supply 
the  grandest  and  dearest  market  of  the  world  for 
the  disposal  of  everything  beautiful  and  costly 
and  artistic  which  the  Old  World  possesses,  and 
all  the  shopkeepers  of  Europe,  with  the  knowl- 


Plentifully  larded  with  Adolph  Stein, 
Simon  Levi,  Gustave  Cohen,  or 
something  ending  in  berger. 


333 


The  Art  of  Living 


edge  of  generations  on  the  tips  of  their  tongues 
and  in  the  corners  of  their  brains,  have  come  over 
to  coin  dowries  for  their  daughters  in  the  land  of 
the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.  Many  of 
them  have  already  made  large  fortunes  in  the 


Con  the  pages  of   the  late  Ward   McAllister's  book  on  etiquette. 

process,  and  are  beginning  to  con  the  pages  of 
the  late  Ward  McAllister's  book  on  etiquette 
with  a  view  to  social  aggressiveness. 

Despite  this  infusion  of  foreign  blood,  the  na 
tive  stock  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  nomenclature  are 
still,  of  course,  predominant  in  numbers.  There 
are  some  portions  of  the  country  where  the  late 


334 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


immigrant  is  scarcely  to  be  found.  True  also  is 
it  that  these  late-comers,  like  the  immigrants  of 
fifty  years  ago,  have  generally  "been  prompt  in 
appropriating  the  independent  and  energetic 
spirit  typical  of  our  people.  But  there  is  a  sig 
nificant  distinction  to  be  borne  in  mind  in  this 
connection :  The  independent  energy  of  the 
Americans  of  fifty  years  ago,  whether  in  the  East 
or  among  the  pioneers  of  the  Western  frontier, 
was  not,  however  crude  its  manifestations,  mere 
bombastic  assertiveness,  but  the  expression  of  a 
faith  and  the  expression  of  strong  character. 
They  were  often  ignorant,  conceited,  narrow, 
hard,  and  signally  inartistic ;  but  they  stood  for 
principle  and  right  as  they  saw  and  believed  it ; 
they  cherished  ideals;  they  were  firm  as  adamant 
in  their  convictions  ;  and  God  talked  with  them 
whether  in  the  store  or  workshop,  or  at  the 
plough.  This  was  essentially  true  of  the  rank 
and  file  of  the  people,  no  less  true  and  perhaps 
more  true  of  the  humblest  citizens  than  of  the 
well-to-do  and  prominent. 

There  can  be  litte  doubt  that  the  foreign  ele 
ment  which  is  now  a  part  of  the  American  people 
represents  neither  a  faith  nor  the  expression  of 
ideals  or  convictions.  The  one,  and  the  largest 
portion  of  it,  is  the  overflow  and  riff-raff  of  the 
so  -  called  proletariat  of  Europe ;  ,the  other  is 
the  evidence  of  a  hyena -like  excursion  for  the 


The  Art  of  Living 


purposes  of  plunder.  In  order  to  be  a  good 
American  it  is  not  enough  to  become  indepen 
dent  and  energetic.  The  desire  to  make  the  most 
of  one's  self  is  a  relative  term  ;  it  must  proceed 
from  principle  and  be  nourished  by  worthy,  eth 
ical  aims  ;  otherwise  it  satisfies  itself  with  paltry 
conditions,  or  with  easy-going  florid  materialism. 
The  thieving  and  venality  in  municipal  political 
affairs  of  the  Irish-American,  the  dull  squalor  and 
brutish  contentment  of  the  Russian-Pole,  and  the 
commercial  obliquity  of  vision  and  earthy  am 
bitions  of  the  German  Jew,  are  factors  in  our 
national  life  which  are  totally  foreign  to  the 
Americanism  for  which  Abraham  Lincoln  stood. 
We  have  opened  our  gates  to  a  horde  of  economic 
ruffians  and  malcontents,  ethical  bankrupts  and 
social  thugs,  and  we  must  needs  be  on  our  guard 
lest  their  aims  and  point  of  view  be  so  engrafted 
on  the  public  conscience  as  to  sap  the  vital  prin 
ciples  which  are  the  foundation  of  our  strength 
as  a  people.  The  danger  from  this  source  is  all 
the  greater  from  the  fact  that  the  point  of  view 
of  the  American  people  has  been  changed  so  rad 
ically  during  the  last  thirty  years  as  a  secondary 
result  of  our  material  prosperity.  We  have  ceased 
to  be  the  austere  nation  we  once  were,  and  we 
have  sensibly  let  down  the  bars  in  the  manner  of 
our  living  ;  \ve  have  recognized  the  value  of,  and 
we  enjoy,  many  things  which  our  fathers  put 

336 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


from  them  as  inimical  to  republican  virtue  and 
demoralizing  to  society.  Contact  with  older  civ 
ilizations  has  made  us  wiser  and  more  appreci 


ative,  and  with  this 
growth  of  perspec 
tive  and  the  ac 
quirement  of  an 
eye  for  color  has 
come  a  liberality 
of  sentiment 
which  threat 
ens  to  de 
bauch  us  un 
less  we  are 
careful.  There 
are  many,  especially  among  the  wealthy  and  fash 
ionable,  who  in  their  ecstasy  over  our  emancipa 
tion  are  disposed  to  throw  overboard  everything 
which  suggests  the  old  regime,  and  to  introduce 

337 


"  Many  things  which  our  fathers  put  from  them." 


The  Art  of  Living 


any  custom  which  will  tend  to  make  life  more 
easy-going  and  spectacular.  And  in  this  they  are 
supported  by  the  immigrant  foreigner,  who  would 
be  only  too  glad  to  see  the  land  of  his  adoption 
made  to  conform  in  all  its  usages  to  the  land  of 
his  birth. 

The  conduct  of  life  here  has  necessarily  and 
beneficially  been  affected  by  the  almost  general 
recognition  that  we  have  not  a  monopoly  of  all  the 
virtues,  and  by  the  adoption  of  many  customs  and 
points  of  view  recommended  by  cosmopolitan  ex 
perience.  The  American  people  still  believe, 
however,  that  our  civilization  is  not  merely  a  rep 
etition  of  the  older  ones,  and  a  duplication  on 
new  soil  of  the  old  social  treadmill.  That  it 
must  be  so  in  a  measure  every  one  will  admit, 
but  we  still  insist,  and  most  of  us  believe,  that  we 
are  to  point  the  way  to  a  new  dispensation.  We 
believe,  but  at  the  .same  time  when  we  stop  to 
think  we  find  some  difficulty  in  specifying  exact 
ly  what  we  are  doing  to  justify  the  faith.  It  is 
easy  enough  to  get  tangled  up  in  the  stars  and 
stripes  and  cry  "  hurrah ! "  and  to  thrust  the 
American  eagle  down  the  throats  of  a  weary  uni 
verse,  but  it  is  quite  another  to  command  the  ad 
miration  of  the  world  by  behavior  commensurate 
with  our  ambition  and  self-confidence.  Our  fore 
fathers  could  point  to  their  own  nakedness  as  a 
proof  of  their  greatness,  but  there  seems  to  be 

338 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


some  danger  that  we,  now  that  we  have  clothed 
ourselves — and  clothed  ourselves  as  expensively 
as  possible  and  not  always  in  the  best  taste — will 
forget  the  ideas  and  ideals  for  which  those  fathers 
stood,  and  let  ourselves  be  seduced  by  the  spe 
cious  doctrine  that  human  nature  is  always  human 
nature,  and  that  all  civilizations  are  alike.  To  be 
sure,  an  American  now  is  apt  to  look  and  act  like 
any  other  rational  mortal,  and  there  is  no  denying 
that  the  Atlantic  cable  and  ocean  greyhound  have 
brought  the  nations  of  the  world  much  closer  to 
gether  than  they  ever  were  before  ;  but  this  mere 
ly  proves  that  we  can  become  just  like  the  others, 
only  worse,  in  case  we  choose  to.  But  we  intend 
to  improve  upon  them. 

To  those  who  believe  that  we  are  going  to  im 
prove  upon  them  it  must  be  rather  an  edifying 
spectacle  to  observe  the  doings  and  sayings  of 
that  body  of  people  in  the  city  of  New  York  who 
figure  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day  as  "  the  four 
hundred,"  "  the  smart  set,"  or  "  the  fashionable 
world."  After  taking  into  full  account  the  claims 
of  the  sensitive  city  of  Chicago,  it  may  be  truth 
fully  stated  that  the  city  of  New  York  is  the 
Paris  of  America.  There  are  other  municipalities 
which  are  doing  their  best  in  their  several  ways 
to  rival  her,  but  it  is  toward  New  York  that  all 
the  eyes  in  the  country  are  turned,  and  from 
which  they  take  suggestion  as  a  cat  laps  milk. 


The  Art  of  Living 


The  rest  of  us  are  in  a  measure  provincial.  Many 
of  us  profess  not  to  approve  of  New  York,  but, 
though  we  cross  ourselves  piously,  we  take  or 
read  a  New  York  daily  paper.  New  York  gives 


A  set  of  shallow  worldlings. 


the  cue  alike  to  the  Sec 
retary  of  the  Treasury 
and  (by  way  of  London) 
to  the  social  swell.  The 
ablest  men  in  the  country 
seek  New  York  as  a  mar 
ket  for  their  brains,  and  the  wealthiest  people 
of  the  country  move  to  New  York  to  spend  the 
patrimony  which  their  rail- splitting  fathers  or 
grandfathers  accumulated.  Therefore  it  is  per 
fectly  just  to  refer  to  the  social  life  of  New  York 
as  representative  of  that  element  of  the  American 
people  which  has  been  most  blessed  with  brains 
or  fortune,  and  as  representative  of  our  most 
highly  evolved  civilization.  It  ought  to  be  our 
best.  The  men  and  women  who  contribute  to  its 


34° 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


movement  and  influence  ought  to  be  the  pick  of 
the  country.  But  what  do  we  find  ?  We  find  as 
the  ostensible  leaders  of  New  York  society  a  set 
of  shallow  worldlings  whose  whole  existence  is 
given  up  to  emulating  one  another  in  elaborate 
and  splendid  inane  social  fripperies.  They  dine 
and  wine  and  dance  and  entertain  from  January 
to  December. 
Their  houses, 
whether  in  town 
or  at  the  fash 
ionable  water 
ing-places  to 
which  they  move 
in  summer,  are 
as  sumptuous,  if 
not  more  so, than 
those  of  the 
French  nobility 
in  its  palmiest 
days,  and  their 
energies  are  de 
voted  to  the  dis 
covery  01  new  ex-  Keenly  solicitous  to  know  'what  is  going  on  in 
•  i  •  society.1 

pensive  luxuries 

and  fresh  titillating  creature  comforts.  That  such 
a  body  of  people  should  exist  in  this  country  after 
little  more  than  a  century  of  democratic  institutions 
is  extraordinary,  but  much  more  extraordinary  is 


The  Art  of  Living 


^ 


the  absorbing  interest  which  a  large  portion  of  the 
American  public  takes  in  the  doings  and  sayings 
of  this  fashionable  rump.  There  is  the  disturbing 
feature  of  the  case.  Whatever  these  worldlings 
do  is  flashed  over  the  entire  country,  and  is  cop 
ied  into  a  thousand  news 
papers  as  being  of  vital 
concern  to  the  health 
and  home  of  the  nation. 
The  editors  print  it  be 
cause  it  is  de- 
'•"  manded ;  be- 
cause  they 
have  found 
that  the  '  free- 
born  American  citizen 
is  keenly  solicitous  to 
know  "  what  is  going 
on  in  society,"  and  that 
he  or  she  follows  with 
almost  feverish  interest 
and  with  open-mouthed 
absorption  the  span 
gled  and  jewelled  an 
nual  social  circus  parade  which  goes  on  in  the 
Paris  of  America.  The  public  is  indifferently 
conscious  that  underneath  this  frothy  upper-crust 
in  New  York  there  is  a  large  number  of  the 
ablest  men  and  women  of  the  country  by  whose 


The  number  of  bottles  of  champagne 
opened  at  the  marriage  of  some  mill 
ionaire's  daughter. 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


activities  the  great  educational,  philanthropic, 
and  artistic  enterprises  of  the  day  have  been  fos 
tered,  promoted,  and  made  successful ;  but  this  con 
sciousness  pales  into  secondary  importance  in  the 
democratic  mind  as  compared  with  realistic  details 
concerning  this  ball  and  that  dinner-party  where 
thousands  of  dollars  are  poured  out  in  vulgar  ex 
travagance,  or  concerning  the  cost  of  the  wedding- 
presents,  the  names  and  toilettes  of  the  guests,  and 
the  number  of  bottles  of  champagne  opened  at  the 
marriage  of  some  millionaire's  daughter. 

No  wonder  that  this  aristocracy  of  ours  plumes 
itself  on  its  importance,  and  takes  itself  seriously 
when  it  finds  its  slightest  doings  telegraphed 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  It  feels  itself 
called  to  new  efforts,  for  it  understands  with  na 
tive  shrewdness  that  the  American  people  re 
quires  novelty  and  fresh  entertainment,  or  it 
looks  elsewhere.  Accordingly  it  is  beginning  to 
be  unfaithful  to  its  marriage  vows.  Until  within 
a  recent  period  the  husbands  and  wives  of  this 
vapid  society  have,  much  to  the  bewilderment  of 
warm-blooded  students  of  manners  and  morals, 
been  satisfied  to  flirt  and  produce  the  appearance 
of  infidelity,  and  yet  only  pretend.  Now  the  di 
vorce  court  and  the  whispered  or  public  scandal 
bear  frequent  testimony  to  the  fact  that  it  is  not 
so  fashionable  or  "  smart "  as  it  used  to  be  merely 
to  make  believe. 

343 


The  Art  of  Living 


Was  there  ever  a  foreign  court,  when  foreign 
courts  were  in  their  glory,  where  men  and  wom 
en  were  content  merely  to  whisper  and  giggle 
behind  a  rubber-tree  in  order  to  appear  vicious? 
It  may  be  said  at  least  that  some  of  our  fashion- 


satisfied  to  flirt. 

ables  have  learned  to  be  men  and  women  instead 
of  mere  simpering  marionettes.  Still  there  was 
originality  in  being  simpering  marionettes  :  Mari 
tal  infidelity  has  been  the  favorite  excitement  of 
every  rotten  aristocracy  which  the  world  has 
ever  seen. 

344 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


II 

A  MANNER  of  life  of  this  description  can  scarce 
ly  be  the  ideal  of  the  American  people.  Certain 
ly  neither  George  Washington,  when  he  delivered 
his  farewell  address,  nor  Abraham  Lincoln,  on 
the  occasion  of  his  second  inaugural,  looked  for 
ward  to  the  evolution  of  any  such  aristocracy  as 
the  fulfilment  of  the  nation's  hopes.  And  yet  this 
coterie  of  people  has  its  representatives  in  all  the 
large  cities  of  the  country,  and  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  that  in  a  short  time  the  example  set  will 
be  imitated  to  some  extent,  at  least,  and  that  one 
portion  of  the  country  will  vie  with  another  in 
extravagant  social  vanities  and  prodigal  display 
on  the  part  of  a  pleasure-seeking  leisure  class. 

Most  of  these  people  go  to  church,  and,  indeed, 
some  of  them  are  ostensibly  regardful  of  church 
functions  and  ceremonies,  and,  as  they  do  not 
openly  violate  any  laws  so  as  to  subject  them 
selves  to  terms  of  imprisonment,  the  patriotic 
American  citizen  finds  himself  able  merely  to 
frown  by  way  of  showing  his  dissatisfaction  at 
this  form  of  high  treason  against  the  morals  and 
aims  of  democracy.  To  frown  and  to  be  grateful 
that  one  is  not  like  certain  pleasure-seeking  mill 
ionaires  is  not  much  of  a  comfort,  especially 
when  it  is  obvious  that  the  ignorant  and  semi- 

345 


The  Art  of  Living 


ignorant  mass  is  fascinated  by  the  extravagances 
and  worldly  manifestations  of  the  individuals  in 
question,  and  has  made  them  its  heroes  on  ac 
count  of  their  unadulterated  millions.  Indeed, 
the  self-respecting,  patriotic  American  citizen 
finds  himself  to-day  veritably  between  Scylla  and 
Charybdis  in  the  matter  of  the  conduct  of  life. 
We  are  no  longer  the  almost 
homogeneous  nation  we  were 
fifty  years  ago.  There  are  far 
greater  extremes  of  wealth 
and  poverty.  Our  economic 
conditions,  or  at  least  the 
conditions  which  exist  in  our 
principal'  cities,  are  closely 
approximating  those  which 
exist  in  the  cities  of  the  Old 
World.  Outside  of  our  cities 
the  people  for  the  most  part 
live  in  respectable  comfort  by  the  practice  of 
what  passes  in  America  for  economy,  which  may 
be  defined  as  a  high  but  ignorant  moral  purpose 
negatived  by  waste  and  domestic  incompetence. 
It  has  always  been  true  of  our  beloved  country 
that,  though  the  ship  of  state  has  seemed  on  the 
point  of  floundering  from  time  to  time,  disaster 
has  invariably  been  averted  at  critical  junctures 
by  the  saving  grace  of  the  common -sense  and 
right-mindedness  of  the  American  people.  This  is 

346 


When     he     delivered     his 
farewell  address. 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


not  so  complimentary  as  it  sounds.  It  really  means 
that  the  average  sense  and  intelligence  of  the 
public  is  apt  to  be  in  the  wrong  at  the  outset,  and 
to  be  converted  to  the  right  only  after  many  days 
and  much  tribulation.  In  other  words,  our  safety 
and  our  progress  have  been  the  result  of  a  slow 
and  often  reluctant  yielding  of  opinion  by  the 
mass  to  the  superior  judgment  of  a  minority. 
This  is  merely  another  way  of  stating  that,  where 
everyone  has  a  right  to  individual  opinion,  and 
there  are  no  arbitrary  standards  of  conduct  or  of 
anything  else  outside  the  statute  law,  the  mean 
is  likely  to  fall  far  short  of  what  is  best.  Our  sal 
vation  in  every  instance  of  national  perplexity 
has  been  the  effectual  working  on  the  public  con 
science  of  the  leaven  of  the  best  Americanism.  A 
comparatively  small  proportion  of  the  population 
have  been  the  pioneers  in  thought  and  suggestion 
of  subsequent  ardent  espousals  by  the  entire  pub 
lic.  This  leaven,  in  the  days  when  we  were  more 
homogeneous,  was  made  up  from  all  the  elements 
of  society  ;  or,  in  other  words,  the  best  American 
ism  drew  its  representatives  from  every  condition 
of  life ;  the  farmer  of  the  Western  prairie  was  just 
as  likely  to  tower  above  his  fellows  and  become 
a  torch-bearer  as  the  merchant  or  mechanic  of  the 
city. 

If  we  as  a  nation  have  needed  a  leaven  in  the 
past,  we  certainly  have  no  less  need  of  one  to-day, 

347 


The  Art  of  Living 


now  that  we  are  in  the  flush  of  material  prosper 
ity  and  consciousness  of  power.  Fortunately  we 
have  one.  The  public-spirited,  nobly  independent, 
earnest,  conscientious,  ambitious  American  exists 
to-day  as  indisputably  and  unmistakably  as  ever, 
and  he  is  a  finer  specimen  of  humanity  than  he  used 
to  be,  for  he  knows  more  and  he  poses  much  less. 
It  is  safe  to  assert,  too,  that  he  is  still  to  be  found 
in  every  walk  of  our  national  life.  The  existence 
of  an  aggravating  and  frivolous  aristocracy  on  the 
surface,  and  an  ignorant,  unassthetic  mass  under 
neath  should  not  blind  us  to  the  fact  that  there  is 
a  sound  core  to  our  social  system.  The  hope  of 
the  United  States  to-day  lies  in  that  large  minor 
ity  of  the  people  who  are  really  trying  to  solve 
the  problems  of  life  from  more  than  a  merely  self 
ish  standpoint.  One  has  merely  to  think  a  mo 
ment  in  order  to  realize  what  a  really  numerous 
and  significant  body  among  us  is  endeavoring  to 
promote  the  cause  of  American  civilization  by  as 
piring  or  decent  behavior.  Our  clergymen,  our 
lawyers,  our  doctors,  our  architects,  our  mer 
chants,  our  teachers,  some  of  our  editors,  our  bank 
ers,  our  scientists,  our  scholars,  and  our  philan 
thropists,  at  once  stand  out  as  a  generally  sane 
and  earnest  force  of  citizens.  The  great  educa 
tional,  charitable,  artistic,  and  other  undertakings 
which  have  been  begun  and  splendidly  completed 
by  individual  energy  and  liberality  since  the  death 

348 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


of  Abraham  Lincoln,  bespeak  eloquently  the  tem 
per  of  a  certain  portion  of  the  community.  If  it 
be  true  that  the  so  -  called  aristocracy  of  New 
York  City  threatens  the  repute  and  sincerity  of 
democracy  by  its  heartlessness  and  unworthy 
attempts  to  ape  the  vices  of  a  fifteenth-century 
European  nobility,  New  York  can  fairly  retort 
that  it  offers  in  its  working  force  of  well-to-do 
people  the  most  vital,  interesting,  sympathetic, 
and  effective  force  of  men  and  women  in  the  na 
tion.  If  the  Paris  of  America  contains  the  most 
dangerous  element  of  society,  it  also  contains  an 
element  which  is  equal  to  the  best  elsewhere,  and 
is  more  attractive  than  any.  The  New  York 
man  or  woman  who  is  in  earnest  is  sure  to  accom 
plish  something,  for  he  or  she  is  not  likely  to  be 
handicapped  by  ignorant  provincialism  of  ethics 
or  art  which  plays  havoc  with  many  of  the  good 
intentions  of  the  rest  of  the  country. 

This  versatile  and  interesting  leaven  of  Amer 
ican  society  finds  its  counterpart,  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent,  in  every  section  of  the  United  States, 
but  it  is  nowhere  quite  so  attractive  as  in  the 
Paris  of  America,  for  the  reason  that  nowhere 
does  the  pulse  of  life  move  so  keenly  as  there, 
and  nowhere  is  the  science  of  living  absorb 
ingly  so  well  understood.  The  art  of  living  has 
there  reached  a  more  interesting  phase  than  in 
any  part  of  America,  if  zest  in  life  and  the  facili- 


The  Art  of  Living 


V? 
I 


ties  to  make  the  most  of  it  are  regarded  as  the 
test. 

This  may  sound   worldly.     The  people   of  the 
United  States  used  to  consider  it  worldly  to  ad 
mire   pictures   or  to    listen   to   beautiful    music. 
Some  think  so  still.     Many  a  citizen  of  what  was 
lately  the  prairie  sits   down   to  his 
dinner  in  his  shirt-sleeves  to-day  and 
pretends  to  be  thankful   that  he  is 
neither  an  aristocrat  nor  a  gold-bug. 
The  next  week,  per 
haps,  this  same  citi 
zen  will  vote  against 
a  national  bankrupt 
law  because  he  does 
not  wish  to  pay  his 
debts,  or  vote  for  a  bill  which 
will  enable  him  to  pay  them 
in     depreciated    currency. 
Many    a    clergyman    who 
knows  better  gives  his  flock 

consolingly  to  understand  that  to  be  absorbed 
in  the  best  human  interests  of  life  is  unworthy 
of  the  Christian,  and  that  to  be  ordinary  and 
unattractive  is  a  legitimate  condition  of  mind  and 
body.  Surely  the  best  Americanism  is  the  Amer 
icanism  of  the  man  or  woman  who  makes  the 
most  of  what  this  life  affords,  and  throws  him 
self  or  herself  keenly  into  the  thick  of  it.  The 

350 


Thankful  that  he    is    neither  an 
aristocrat  nor  a  gold-bug. 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


art  of  living  is  the  science  of  living  nobly  and 
well,  and  how  can  one  live  either  nobly  or  well 
by  regarding  life  on  the  earth  as  a  mere  log- 
cabin  existence  ?  If  we  in  this  country  who  seek 
to  live  wisely  are  in  danger  from  the  extrava 
gant  vanities  of  the  very  rich,  we  are  scarcely 
less  menaced  by  that  narrow  spirit  of  ethical 
teaching  which  tries  to  inculcate  that  it  does  not 
much  matter  what  our  material  surroundings  are, 
and  that  any  progress  made  by  society,  except  in 
the  direction  of  sheer  morality,  is  a  delusion  and 
a  snare. 

Character  is  the  basis  and  the  indispensable 
requisite  of  the  finest  humanity  ;  without  it  re 
finement,  appreciation,  manners,  fancy,  and  power 
of  expression  are  like  so  many  boughs  on  a  tree 
which  is  dead.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  Avhat  is 
more  uninspiring  than  an  unadorned  soul  ?  That 
kind  of  virtue  and  morality  which  finds  no  inter 
est  in  the  affairs  of  this  life  is  but  a  fresh  con 
tribution  to  the  sum  of  human  incompetence,  and 
but  serves  to  retard  the  progress  of  civilization. 
The  true  and  the  chief  reason  why  there  is  less 
misery  in  the  world  than  formerly  is  that  men 
understand  better  how  to  live.  That  straight- 
laced  type  of  American,  who  is  content  to  be 
moral  in  his  own  narrow  way,  and  to  exclude 
from  his  scheme  of  life  all  those  interests  which 
serve  to  refine  and  to  inspire,  bears  the  same  rela- 

351 


The  Art  of  Living 


tion  to  the  ideal  man  or  woman  that  a  chromo 
bears  to  a  masterpiece  of  painting. 

We  have  no  standards  in  this  country.  The 
individual  is  free  to  express  himself  here  within 
the  law  in  any  way  he  sees  fit,  and  the  conduct 
of  life  comes  always  at  last  to  an  equation  of  the 
individual.  Each  one  of  us  when  we  awake  in 
the  morning  finds  the  problem  of  existence 
staring  him  anew  in  the  face,  and  cannot  always 
spare  the  time  to  remember  that  he  is  an  Amer 
ican.  And  yet  Americanism  is  the  sum  total  of 
what  all  of  us  are.  It  will  be  very  easy  for  us 
simply  to  imitate  the  civilizations  of  the  past,  but 
if  our  civilization  is  to  stand  for  anything  vital, 
and  to  be  a  step  forward  in  the  progress  of  hu 
manity,  we  must  do  more  than  use  the  old  com 
binations  and  devices  of  society  in  a  new  kalei 
doscopic  form.  Our  heritage  as  Americans  is 
independence,  originality,  self-reliance,  and  sym 
pathetic  energy  animated  by  a  strong  ethical 
instinct,  and  these  are  forces  which  can  produce 
a  higher  and  a  broader  civilization  than  the  world 
has  yet  seen  if  we  choose  to  have  it  so.  But  it  is 
no  longer  a  matter  of  cutting  down  forests  and 
opening  mines,  of  boasting  beside  the  plough  and 
building  cities  in  a  single  year,  of  fabulous  fort 
unes  won  in  a  trice,  and  of  favorite  sons  in  black 
broadcloth  all  the  year  round.  It  is  a  matter  of 
a  vast,  populous  country  and  a  powerful,  seething 


The  Conduct  of  Life 


civilization  where  the  same  problems  confront  us 
which  have  taxed  the  minds  and  souls  of  the  Old 
World  for  generations  of  men.  It  is  for  our  orig 
inality  to  throw  new  light  upon  them,  and  it  is 
for  our  independence  to  face  them  in  the  spirit  of 
a  deeper  sympathy  with  humanity,  and  free  from 
the  canker  of  that  utter  selfishness  which  has 
made  the  prosperity  and  glory  of  other  great  na 
tions  culminate  so  often  in  a  decadence  of  de 
grading  luxury  and  fruitless  culture. 

No  civilization  which  regards  the  blessings  and 
comforts  of  refined  living  as  unworthy  to  be 
striven  for  and  appropriated  can  hope  to  promote 
the  cause  of  humanity.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
Americans  must  remember  that  purely  selfish 
appropriation  and  appreciation  of  these  blessings 
and  comforts  has  worked  the  ruin  of  the  most 
famous  civilizations  of  the  past.  Marie  Antoi 
nette  was  more  elegant  than  the  most  fashionable 
woman  in  New  York,  and  yet  that  did  not  save  her 
from  the  tumbrel  and  the  axe.  The  best  American 
ism  of  to-day  and  for  the  future  is  that  which  shall 
seek  to  use  the  fruits  of  the  earth  and  the  lulness 
thereof,  and  to  develop  all  the  manifestations  of 
art  and  gentle  living  in  the  interest  of  humanity  as 
a  whole.  But  even  heartless  elegance  is  preferable 
to  that  self-righteous  commonness  of  spirit  which 
sits  at  home  in  its  shirt-sleeves  and  is  graceless, 
ascetic,  and  unimaginative  in  the  name  of  God. 

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